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cherryredcheol · 17 days

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two boyfies

tldr: do you actually have two boyfriends like jeonghan said? and why doesn't cheol know? a/n: god, the way i feel about this man should be criminal... references to: drinking and a brief mention of sex

the latest episode of your drama had just finished when seungcheol walked through the door. he was right on time, just like he said he’d be. you were so delighted to see him, running to the door before he could even get both his shoes off, wrapping your arms tightly around his middle.

“missed you,” you tried to convey the sweet message to him but the words came out muffled because of how your face was buried in his chest.

he understood you nonetheless, he always did, “missed you too, baby.” he pulled you impossibly closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, breathing in your soft scent as he did so.

you two stayed like that for what felt like hours, just holding each other after a long day apart: him doing his schedules, you going to work. although you lived together now, it never felt like you’d get enough time with seungcheol. you’re not sure how you survived the days of living separately.

“baby” he spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the peace in the apartment.

“hmm?” you hummed at him, acknowledging that you heard him but making no real attempt to remove yourself from him.

you could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke, “hannie told me something crazy today and i just have to tell you.”

this piqued your interest but not enough to get you to look at him, still content to listen to his steady heartbeat, “what?”

“he said,” seungcheol paused for dramatic effect, “that you told him you have two boyfriends.”

you knew instantly what your (only) boyfriend was referring to. as a blush crept up your neck and onto your face you felt cheol’s chest shake with laughter, you whined and tried to bury yourself deeper into him, not wanting to face his teasing eyes yet.

“know anything about that baby?” he asked, finally pulling back from you in an attempt to get you to look at him, a little smirk on his lips.

your head swiveled around, looking around the apartment to find some excuse to get you out of this awkward moment created by your big mouth and your boyfriend’s best friend.

seungcheol grabbed your chin, pulling your face to look at his, forcing your eyes to meet and in them, you saw nothing but mirth.

your blush deepened and his smirk grew, “i asked you a question baby. don’t make me repeat myself”

he released you and you groaned, wholly embarrassed, “cheollie, you know i only have eyes for you.”

at this confession his smirk bloomed into a full, toothy grin. he could end it here, but he was enjoying seeing you squirm, “are you saying jeonghannie is a liar?”

you rolled your eyes, “obviously not, he’s just not telling the whole truth.”

“will you tell me the whole truth then?” he pouted at you, “spent the whole day thinking my baby had another boyfriend. am i not enough for you?”

part of you wanted to walk away from him, leave the safe embrace of his arms, and rethink the offer on the tip of your tongue about making dinner. but you knew when cheol was playful like this, he wouldn’t let it go. he would keep badgering you all night to tell him what jeonghan had meant and if you really had another man besides him.

“first of all, in my defense, i only told hannie that i had two boyfriends when i was drunk so you can’t really take my words at face value,” you were trying to rationalize it to him, make him understand the context of this situation you were about to explain to him.

“you know what they say baby,” seungcheol continued to tease you, “drunk words are sober thoughts.” he looked so smug with his little smirk on, looking down his nose at you, nothing but completely endeared by your shyness.

“the only thing i said to hannie was it was like i have two boyfriends. i have my seungcheollie and then s. coups.” you couldn’t even look at him as you said this, far too embarrassed by drunk you from a few weeks ago. seungcheol however couldn’t look away, somehow feeling more and more fond as the blush staining your face got impossibly deeper.

“are they not the same, baby? both are me. how could they be different?” he was goading you on at this point. he knew what you meant, but he just wanted to hear you say it.

“cheollie…” you whined. you knew he was just dragging this out to tease you further.

he pulled you into his chest again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and you think you’re in the clear until you hear him murmur against your hairline, “explain it to me, baby”

you huff and whine against him, wanting to escape his hold and this embarrassment, but you know he won't let this go so you concede, dignity be damned, “its like you’re one person when its just you and i. that’s seungcheollie: all soft smiles and tight hugs. seungcheollie takes care of me in a way i never even knew i needed. he’s a lover boy” he hums and you can feel it reverberate in your chest that was tightly pressed against his. when he says nothing more, you take it as a cue to continue. “s. coups is sexy, domineering, and intimidating. he has this huge presence that’s impossible to ignore. he fucks. he’s different than just you cheollie, you know it.”

at first, it was quiet and you thought the teasing was over. you were so embarrassed you had just admitted all of that to him, hoping he didn’t think you were a weirdo.

then he giggles. his giggles trigger your own and suddenly you’re both holding each other, laughing in the entryway to your apartment, cheol with one shoe still on despite having gotten home a while ago.

after the laughter subsides, he looks down at you, smiling fondly, “you’re so cute, baby. i love you so much. we both do.”

he leans down for a kiss but you groan, pushing him away, walking towards the kitchen, intent on starting dinner but not sure if your boyfriend deserves it.

he laughs, following behind you like a lost puppy, determined to show you how even though you feel like you have two boyfriends, you’re the only one for him.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #svt #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol imagine #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #scoups #scoups imagines #scoups imagine

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itaipava · 6 months

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— that italicized ‘oh’ moment with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

the sudden display of affection. when you’re so happy because of something and when he’s so happy because you’re so happy, and you excitedly jump into each other’s arms; it’s a very soft ‘oh’ first, relishing how warm this is and also thinking how you never want to let go because this feels like home, that’s when it hits: oh. the earlier excitement has waned, replaced by something else entirely as you linger in each other’s embrace.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

that moment when your gazes lock in a loud, crowded room. at first it starts off with a few casual sentences and before you both know it, the conversation flows so perfectly despite the rowdiness and chaos surrounding the two of you, and between a witty retort and an embarrassingly loud abrupt laugh, your eyes meet and it’s like oh. oh indeed.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

when he sees you, truly sees you for the first time. he finds it incredulous how he’d never noticed the way the shade of your eyes shines in the sun or the way your laughter sounds like poetry in summertime. it’s like you’ve been friends for years and yet until this moment, he’d never looked at you. but now, suddenly, everything makes sense: the effortless smiles that find him when you’re being your idiotic self, the stupid excuses he tried to find just to be close to you, and the quiet pang in his heart when you’re being a little too friendly with someone else. it all makes sense now and the only thing he can say is oh.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

the accidental i love you. the words spilled out of him without warning, without a second thought. he hadn’t meant to say it but he did mean it. as a friend, he internally tried to reason, feeling both panicked and strangely calm. but you looked into his eyes and he looked back, and you both resigned you were in deep trouble because oh.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

when you’re vulnerable with each other. you hesitantly tell him something you’ve never had the courage to tell anyone before. and instead of wincing or recoiling from you, he simply nods and listens. and you let out a sound that’s almost like laughter — half surprised and half delighted. and you realize all at once how special this is, how special he is, how light you feel after letting that out. and oh, you think. if you weren’t certain before if you’re in love with him, you are now. so hopelessly, gratefully, and blessedly in love.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

the first kiss. it’s all easy smiles, teasing smirks, and playful, challenging gazes. until the kiss. his mind empties; there’s no thought of what exactly happened to lead up to this or what to do when things get awkward between you afterwards. there’s only the feeling of your lips against his, and the feel of your hair and skin as he cradles your face and kisses you deeper. head empty, really, except for a very happy and slightly startled oh.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

only when someone indirectly points it out. because he’s too oblivious that he leaves his own feelings no choice but to gradually worm their way. then he’s talking to someone about love — how the topic got there, he has no idea — but he’s listening to the person describe a quote they’ve heard from somewhere and max finds that he relates to it a little too much and his mind keeps going to you and just like that, it hits him. beneath all the ‘friendly’ touches, i’m-bored late night phone calls, and bellyaching laughter, there’s something more. oh.

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sciderman · 2 months

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Sci in the short time Uncle Ben was around -- or even if he'd lived longer -- would he have known that Peter is Spiderman?

this is such a delight of a question! what a delightful little thought experiment. thinking about a scenario where uncle ben was still around when aunt may finds out peter is spider-man – when she finds peter's tights, when he was seventeen.

i think there's no way at all that aunt may wouldn't have told uncle ben. she definitely would have told him. i don't think uncle ben would've been observant enough to figure it out by himself, but – aunt may, she's smart. she figures it out.

may and ben have such entirely different ways of handling peter

[x]

ben's old-fashioned, a bit square (like peter), and not very well-informed. he worries a lot about peter. worries about him getting into trouble. sees his unusual behaviour, and meets it with soft concern. he doesn't understand it all, he doesn't understand the youth. but he has a desire to embrace peter and attempt to understand him. he worries about him a lot.

may - may's always been the cool parent. she's encouraging, and very easy about this sort of thing. i think she has a lot of trust in peter. maybe more than she should. she is well-informed, and smart, and she recognises behaviours in peter and kind of feels like it's nothing to worry about. she knows peter's doing all the important exploration that he needs to do, and he'll do it at his own time. she thinks peter can handle it.

(of course peter could not handle it.)

i think that's why aunt may didn't confront peter about spider-man. i think she's of the feeling that peter would come out to her when he's ready to. but - she'd definitely tell ben. and if uncle ben knew - well, oh. he would be worried out of his mind.

god bless, it would come out of such a place of concern. and he'd talk to peter. in the most awkward way a father could give his son the talk.

#sci speaks #ask-spiderpool #peter parker #uncle ben #meta #uncle ben cares so much. he's old fashioned and you probably would need to Explain bisexuality to him but he's got the spirit.#he's the only heterosexual cis man in 9319. and he is a true ally.#i think aunt may taught him a lot but he's still got a lot of learning to do.

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capseycartwright · 11 days

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let’s get lost between the lines

ao3 link

“You handled that well,” Tommy said, as they left the restaurant and stepped out into this cool evening air. His words were soft, and gentle – genuine, even. As though he really meant it. Buck was baffled, frankly.

“I handled that with as much grace as an elephant doing ballet,” Buck glared at his - his date? - incredulously. “Tommy, did you hit your head? Are you concussed? Do I need to take you to the emergency room?”

or, after the eddie shaped hiccup of their first date, buck and tommy walk and talk - about coming out and why buck deserves a nice boyfriend.

Buck feels as though he’s swinging wildly between a panic attack and some sort of mental breakdown, heart thundering against his ribcage as he and Tommy finally leave the restaurant. It wasn’t how he’d want their first date - his first date with a man - to go, but then Eddie had appeared with Marisol on his arm and sat down with them, apparently completely oblivious to the fact that he was interrupting a date, and not a just a bro-hang (his words - not Bucks. Because Eddie was nothing if not an embarrassing old man stuck in a thirty-two-year-olds body.)

Tommy hadn’t corrected Eddie about the true nature of their outing, as Eddie had rambled on, hovering over the table, completely oblivious to what he was interrupting. Buck had never been more grateful for the fact that Tommy had already slid his credit card into the folder with the bill, their meal finished before Eddie and Marisol had even gotten seated at their own table. The waitress coming over to return Tommy’s card, and hand him a receipt, had been the perfect excuse for them to leave after fifteen of the worst minutes of Bucks life, making an excuse that he and Tommy had bought tickets to the movies. (“It’s sci-fi,” Buck had shrugged, impressed at the way he was internalising his own panic attack as he managed to splutter a sentence out. Eddie had looked almost hurt, when Buck had blurted that he and Tommy were going to the cinema without him. “You wouldn’t like it.”)

“You handled that well,” Tommy said, as they left the restaurant and stepped out into this cool evening air. His words were soft, and gentle – genuine, even. As though he really meant it.

Buck was baffled, frankly.

Tommy laughed, the sound an utter delight to Buck’s ears. He was quickly learning that he loved the sound of Tommy’s laugh. “No, I’m not concussed,” he rolled his eyes, feigning offence. “It was a genuine compliment. I think you handled that really well, Evan.”

Buck filed the gooey feeling he got in the pit of his stomach he got when Tommy called him ‘Evan’ away to obsess over at another time. “R-really?” he hated the way he sounded so unsure, so uncertain – but he knew he needed to start embracing his own discomfort in the midst of all of this. Being – being newly bisexual was going to be uncomfortable, for a while, but Buck was realising it wasn’t a bad sort of uncomfortable. Weirdly, it was a good uncomfortable – like Buck was growing into his own skin, learning how to feel himself for the first time in his life. It would just take a little while, and it would take a few uncomfortable moments for him to figure out what this new version of Evan Buckley actually looked like.

No - not new. The true version.

“Yes, really,” Tommy nodded. He paused, glancing back at the restaurant. “How about we take a walk?” he suggested, gesturing vaguely at the miles of boardwalk and beach ahead of them. “I’m not in a rush – unless you are.”

“A walk sounds nice,” Buck agreed easily, because he didn’t want to go home just yet – and he didn’t want their date, however awkward and disastrous it had been, to end just yet. He liked spending time with Tommy.

They walked along in silence for a few minutes, Buck blushing like a schoolkid as he and Tommy’s shoulders bumped together.

“Look – coming out isn’t easy. It’s something you have to do over, and over again, for the whole of your life,” Tommy began. “I used to think that you did it once, and that was it, but you come out every time you meet someone new, every time you start a new job. It gets easier, with time, right? At some point – you come out so many times, it feels as familiar as breathing. But those first few times – those are hard.”

“I didn’t even come out,” Buck pointed out.

“You don’t have to,” Tommy shrugged. “And you’re deliberately not listening to my point.”

Buck couldn’t help but grin. “I like to be obtuse sometimes. Explain it to me again?”

“You think you’re cute,” Tommy poked Buck in the side, clearly enjoying the way it made Buck squirm. “My point is, the first time you say those words to someone – your friends, your family – it’s hard. It’s okay to give yourself some time to prepare, to not want to do it right away.”

“Shouldn’t – shouldn’t I want to come out?”

“It’s not an obligation,” Tommy shrugged, gently redirecting Buck to a bench. It was a peaceful spot, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore a peaceful sound as they sat. “Society is like – it’s structured in a way that makes it so if you’re queer, there’s this expectation that you have to divulge these deeply personal things about yourself to everyone you meet. It’s not exactly fair, is it?”

Buck had never thought about it that way before. “No,” his brow furrowed. “It’s not very fair at all.”

“If you don’t want to come out, you don’t have to,” Tommy said. “But it does feel good to come out. If I can give you some like – advice, I guess. It’s a freeing feeling.”

“I’d like to come out,” Buck managed after a minute or two of silence. “I’ve been thinking about it since – since you kissed me,” he paused, feeling heat rise in his cheeks as he looked at Tommy. Tommy, to his credit, tried to swallow his pleased smile. “I feel more like myself than I ever have before. Like – like there was a part of me that was missing, and I didn’t even know it wasn’t there, and now I know it what it is, and what was missing, I feel more like myself than I ever have before in my life.”

Tommy’s smile was bright. “I’m glad to hear that, Buck.”

“I’d like to come out,” Buck repeated, twisting so he could face Tommy. “I just wasn’t prepared to do it on our first date, if I’m honest.”

“And that’s why I’m telling you that you handled it well,” Tommy nudged. “You knew you weren’t ready to have that conversation, there and then, so you came up with an excuse, and got us out of there.”

“You got us out of there,” Buck pointed out. Tommy had been the one to play along and say they’d be late for the movie, if they didn’t leave, there and then. “I didn’t even say thank you for buying dinner. I’m such a bad first date.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re a great first date.”

Buck huffed out a disbelieving breath. “I was basically mid-panic attack the entire time, Tommy, you don’t have to lie to me to save my feelings.”

“I’m not lying,” Tommy shrugged. “If there’s one thing you should know about me, Evan, it’s that I don’t lie. You’ll probably be sick of my honesty, in a few weeks.”

“In a few weeks? You – you want to keep doing this?”

“Why do you sound so unsure? Have I done something to make you think I don’t want to keep doing this?”

“N-no,” Buck paused for a second. “It’s kind of the opposite, actually.”

Tommy was quiet, giving Buck the space – and the silence – he needed to collect his thoughts. Buck was grateful for it.

“I don’t have the best dating history,” Buck admitted. “One day, further down the line, when I’m sure you’re not going to run away, I’ll tell you all the reasons why – but it sort of all boils down to childhood trauma and my deep-rooted abandonment issues,” he tried his best to give Tommy a smile, turn the admission into a joke. “So, I just – I end up picking the wrong people to date. I chase the wrong people. And now – now you’re here, and you’re being so kind, and understanding, I don’t really know what to do with it.”

“You could enjoy it,” Tommy offered, and it sounded so simple, when Tommy put it that way. Buck could just enjoy it. He could enjoy dating a man – a kind, sweet, very handsome man. He could enjoy the way he felt entirely out of his depth when Tommy offered him nothing but kindness, expecting nothing in return.

He could enjoy it.

He wanted to enjoy it.

“How the hell are you real?” Buck couldn’t help but breathe out, shaking his head. Tommy was just – a dream come true, in so many ways, and Buck didn’t know how he got so lucky to have him be interested in Buck. It felt so new, and exciting – none of the existential dread Buck normally felt as he tried to make relationships fit into his life when clearly, they never would.

He could see how Tommy could fit into his life. They worked the same job, so Tommy understood the crazy hours and long shifts. Tommy already knew so many of Buck’s most important people – and liked them – and he liked Buck. He actually liked Buck.

It seemed silly, to keep coming back to that, but Buck hadn’t always felt as though the people he dated him, really liked him. Abby liked the idea of him. Taylor liked the story they made. Natalia liked the fact he had died. Buck didn’t exactly have the best track record of people liking him for who he was, flaws and all – and okay, after one date, Tommy didn’t know his flaws so intimately, but he’d just witnessed Buck having a meltdown in a restaurant and he wasn’t running away.

He was sitting on a bench, listening to Buck.

Buck could definitely enjoy that.

“My mom hasn’t spoken to me since I came out,” Tommy said, after a few more minutes of silence. Buck’s expression must have turned to one of absolute horror, because Tommy gave him a reassuring look. “You told me something about yourself – so I’m telling you something about me.”

“Tommy, that’s horrible – I’m sorry.”

Tommy shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said it was okay,” he hummed thoughtfully. “But one of my very favourite things about being queer is that you find a family for yourself in this community. You know? Well – of course you know. You’ve done that with the 118.”

Buck shuffled a little closer. “I’d like to do that with the queer community too. As long as you don’t mind being my like – gay Yoda.”

Tommy snorted, the sound an utter delight amongst all the background noise of the boardwalk, people going about their Saturday evenings, unaware that Buck was having the most life-changing night of his life. “You’re secretly such a nerd,” he shook his head. “I’m happy to be your gay Yoda, Buck.”

“Yeah, but – what do you get out of it?”

Tommy fixed him with a look. “Buck,” he reached out, hand brushing against Buck’s palm. “I get to have you.”

And –

Oh.

Was that enough?

“It’s enough,” and oh – Buck must have said that part out loud, Tommy’s expression endearingly soft as he nudged Buck. “I promise. You’re more than enough.”

Buck would probably cry, if he spoke there and then, so he settled for doing something he’d been wanting to do since Tommy had knocked on his door at exactly eight pm that evening, and he leaned in and kissed him. It was a chaste kiss, soft, and sweet, a brief press of lips that still sent tingles down Buck’s spine as they broke apart.

He’d just kissed a man – in public.

That felt a lot like progress.

“I – I hope I’m not being too forward, when I ask this,” Tommy’s face was flushed in a way that Buck could only be delighted with. He’d made the other man blush. “But do you maybe want to come back to mine? Not – not for anything like that. I just don’t want this date to be over, and we could watch a movie.”

Buck had absolutely zero fucking intentions of watching a movie if he got to go inside of Tommy’s apartment. “Yeah,” he smiled, hooking a pinky finger around Tommy’s, not quite ready to hold his hand just yet. “A movie sounds great.”

#911 on abc #911 #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #anyway. the brain rot continues

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yestrday · 2 months

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: ̗̀➛ DRUNK ON ECSTASY ! ft. yan! venti, kaeya, diluc, albedo

In a last-ditch effort to subdue your fiery spirit and finally claim you as his, your dear yandere mixes a little something with your food. different emotions arise, but one thing is clear— you’re soooo much cuter when you’re pawing at his sleeves and crying for him.

+ whew finally got this one out of the drafts!! did this instead of the reflection paper lololol

( yandere behavior, drúgging, aphrodisíacs )

venti does it in a last-effort ditch to break down your walls. don’t blame him, okay! he’s been trying sooo hard these past few months to even put a dent in that thick wall you’ve put up between the two of you. he’s confident in his looks and his charm, and has been exploiting the utmost out of them just to seduce you! but you’re sooo hard-headed, and he’s growing really desperate!

he adores your modesty, really! but the shy and reserved smile you put on when he makes a move on you pains him both physically and mentally. he wants to see all of you, the good ones and the bad ones, and he wants to assure you that he’ll love you no matter what! he wants to see you needy and desperate just like he is, but it looks like you’re trying to control yourself. but no worry though, because venti will make it his mission to set you free of such bothersome restraints.

and well~ ♡ venti giggles as he swirls the pink liquid around its heart-shaped vial, brazenly playing with it with your back to your wine. he knows juuust the thing to get you to open up. don’t worry, don’t worry ♡ venti can’t seem to repress the wide grin as he drops just a teensy bit of the potion. this is what friends do, don’t they? help each other out?

and he’s helping you out alright. not like he has much of a choice when you cling and grasp at him so needily. he’s laughing all the time, even when you’re begging for some sort of release. his laughter, bordering on maniacal and full of lust, is muffled by the blood rushing to your head. he loves it— those desperate eyes, the whiny pleas… you’re everything he’s dreamed of and more. isn’t this wayyy better? to be true to yourself instead of hiding what you’re really like?

“venti venti ventiventiventi pleaseee~!” your whines sound absolutely delightful to his ears, and even more so when he watches you cling to him with hearts in your eyes. your hair’s a mess, your cheeks are bright red, and you smile at him like you’re drunk on the attention he’s giving you. “hmm, i don’t know…” venti feigns hesitance, even though he’s kicking his legs in delight. “it’s getting late now… don’t you need to go home at this time already?” you shake your head fervently, clutching even tighter onto him. you stare up at him so desperately and pleadingly that it’s hard to connect you to the straight-laced person you were before. “i– i don’t need to! i’ll stay here for you, venti! just pleasepleaseplease!” you nigh sob, embracing his side as try to indulge in every warmth and touch his body can offer. “please touch me already!” the giggle he lets out is almost maniacal, one that would scare you if you weren’t high on aphrodisiac. he takes a large swig from the wine bottle (more pink than the usual red) and brings your face closer to his. your breaths intermingle, smelling of sweet wine and laced with lust, as venti takes in the prize he’s been coveting for so long. “you’re so precious, my darling,” he whispers, and when he swoops in to kiss you, tongue wrapped around yours, you swear you’ve never been more contented in your entire life.

kaeya believes that he’s not the sort of person to resort to such… disgusting tactics. he tells himself that he can win you over by his charm and hard efforts alone, but the way you smile politely at him or when you take every opportunity to avoid him… it only digs deeper into his insecurities. every witty remark he has is met with an awkward laugh, every time he tries to close the distance, you shy away. it hurts him more than he wants it to. he knows he should be giving up but when he stares at the vial of aphrodisiac he’d unthinkingly buy, he knows he’s far too gone to give up.

he tries to forget about it, tries his best not to think about what horrible thoughts he’s been having of you. but every time you show him even the slightest affection, a genuine smile here or a comforting touch there, he starts caving. how happy he would be if you showed that to him every day! he’d return every affection you gave tenfold, you’d never be starved of it. he wants you so, so bad it’s maddening, and every night he sleeps in his bed alone, his mind becomes a little bit crazier.

but tonight, you were with another. he knows he’s just a friend, that you see them nothing more than a brother, but that’s not how the other party looks at you. yet you lean into their touch so willingly, laugh with them without any restraints, and smile at them so blindingly it stuns kaeya even from across the room. he grasps tightly the bulge in his pocket, heart-shaped and taunting, and bites his lip.

he wants you so, so badly. so when you approach him with your wine glass lifted, greeting him with a drunken smile, he tries to pretend that he is the subject of your affection. tonight, it can be all pretend, but when he refills your cup and watches the pink wisps drown in the red wine, he tells himself that it’ll all be real after this.

“i’ve got you, i’ve got you.” kaeya acts like he’s not the one who made you like this, swaying tipsily from the wine and the drug and clinging onto him for support. well, maybe more than support, because of the way you nuzzle into his side and breathe a sigh of relief, kaeya thinks that maybe you’re longing for something more. “hehe, have i ever told you how handsome you are, mister kaeya~?” you ask him, smiling wobbly up at him as you gaze into his one eye. he gasps in shock when he realizes that your noses are barely touching, and he leans away quickly to save his rapidly beating heart. he wasn’t like this with others, he swears, but something about you makes him so vulnerable and flustered that he doesn’t know what to do. your rented room is barely lit, the candlelights on the side of the wall somehow adding a sensual atmosphere as he guides you to your bed. the feeling of your skin against his is like fire to ice, and the little whimpers you give as the heat tortures you from within sets his head spinning. he can barely handle it, and with the way you’ve been eyeing him… surely it wouldn’t hurt to hope for more. he tries to set you on the bed, but you’re quick to push him down first and straddle him with a triumphant grin. he knows he’s the suspect behind your behavior, yet you’re the one pinning him down and he’s the one blushing and gasping like he’s been caught in your trap. “kaaaeeeyyaaaaa~ ♡” you drawl, nipping lovebites and staring at him with heart eyes and a flirty pout. “keep me company for the night?” his breath hitches in his throat as he takes in your draping clothes and feels the warmth of your body on top of him. mustering up enough bravado, he summons his confident grin to his smile as he wraps his arms around your neck. his heart is beating in his chest, and his eagerness drowns out whatever guilt he may have felt. “anything for you, love.”

when desperate, diluc might not make the most rational of decisions. he had bought the love potion off the black market in a fit of mania after you had once again run off and hurt yourself. his illogical logic reasoned that if you weren’t willing to be under his care, safe, and protected, he might as well force you to want it.

the morning after, diluc’s face contorted with disgust as he looked into the reflection of a man willing to force the person he’d been pining for into something they didn’t want. he locked the crystal bottle under lock and key, swearing that not once would he ever use it. he loved you too much, and admittedly too prideful to resort to such cheap tactics. he needed you to love him of your own volition.

but tonight was another one of those nights, news of another dangerous stunt of yours in dragonspine reaching his ears. you were driving him insane. what archon would care if he kept you under his protection, shackling you to his side even if it meant depriving you of your freedom to explore the world as you wished? hell, he might even get rewarded for it, because you were going to kill yourself at this rate!

there must have been a reason why he didn’t throw away that potion like he had ought to do, a malicious subconscious telling him that he would need it in the future. and it was right, the side of diluc that he had despised so much was right. as he swirls the ominous glowing pink in its bottle, he watches it drop into your wine with a face devoid of any emotion– too sick with love and paranoia to even feel anything for the crime that he was about to do.

the way you’re shivering and reaching for his touch is making him go crazy. he had never expected the potion to be this strong (though he did drop a few too much just to ensure the… effectiveness), so he received your weak embrace with both surprise and a dark delight. your current image was one he thought he despised— babbling incoherently, swaying tipsily, airy giggles, just like the drunks he tended to— but on you, it was nothing short of endearing. especially with the way you whimper at his every caress, shaking in flush pleasure as you lean in for more. you’re pliant on his bed with hazy eyes anticipating his every move, and he gently lifts parts of your clothes to observe the collection of scars you’ve collected. “d– diluc…” you whimper, weakly grabbing at his wrist as he traces another once more. you’re so… small, hands barely wrapping around the width of his wrist. “wha… what are you doing…?” “observing my mistakes,” he replies, pressing a chaste kiss on your temple that has you whining. he sees this with dark eyes but refuses to let go of the leash he’s put upon himself. “all these scars that litter you’re body, it was my mistake for even letting you go out there when you can’t even take care of yourself.” he thumbs another scar and you bite your lip. “now you won’t have to worry anymore. i’ll be the one taking care of you.” “take care of me…?” you’re silent for a few seconds as if the reality of the situation has finally dawned on you. diluc sits in silence too, waiting for you to start screaming and kicking and demanding before a wobbly grin spreads on your face. “take care of me? ♡ then…” wrapping your legs around his neck, you pull him in closer till his chin rests on your tummy, and you smile so lovingly at him that he could almost fool himself. “then take care of me lo~ots tonight, ‘kay? ♡”

albedo doesn’t even bother reserving a love potion for a last resort. he might be a patient man with most things, but he sometimes likes to indulge in his sadistic desires. and there’s no other person than you who seems to rile up those desires more than ever. to have you shivering and weak on his table, moaning weakly as you beg with a bright flush on your cheeks… albedo could not have made the potion any faster.

he’s always been… scientific? when it came to matters of the heart. he’s not the type to chalk the unexplainable thumping of his chest to a mere clash of chemical reactions in his brain. rather, he looks for the fastest and most efficient way to get him results. he could try and be content watching you from afar, dressed in your cute waitress getup as you tended to customers, but archons knew how much he was itching to have his hands on you.

every time you smiled at him from across the street, bounding from good hunter to the little alchemy stall with food that albedo had ordered with ill intentions… it festered something dark within him. albedo’s no idiot, he’s fully aware of what dangerous ideas his mind has been cooking up this entire time. you chat with him with wide and trusting eyes, unaware of how his gaze lingers on your lips and how he purposely brushes your hair back to let his touch linger.

it drives him insane how naive you are, but it is an alchemist’s duty to break down things and build them up again to truly understand the way they are. and albedo is nothing but curious about you.

albedo is delighted at how much the potion seems to have an effect on you. you could barely think, head empty except for the constant need of albedo’s touch, and you beg for it so~o prettily too. he tucks a messy strand behind your ear, just as he always did, but instead of warm smiles and thank yous he’s met with whines and hazy eyes. “‘bedo, ‘bedo, pleeasseee~” you sob into his palm, hugging his arm in an attempt to keep more of his warmth to yourself. “wh- what’s going onnn? i’m sca-ared…” he shushes you, soft caresses tickling your neck as he presses a kiss on your temple. it’s exhilarating how much you shuddered from a mere peck and wondered that should he have made the effects stronger, it certainly would have sent you right over the edge. “sh sh shhh, it’s okay, darling. you’re fine. your body’s just reacting… accepting… let me indulge in this moment for a little bit longer, ‘kay? then i’ll relieve you of your pain.” you don’t process any of his words, just looking up at him with fearful yet trusting eyes. he chuckles when he sees this stupidly cute expression on you and helps himself to nip on your earlobe. “ngh, nha ♡ n- no! not the ear…! ‘bedo, ‘s too sensitive!” your toes curl at the onslaught of pleasure, and you can’t help but kick your legs as you’re overwhelmed. “y- you can’t…!” “oh dear,” he chuckles, pulling away from your lobe and watching as you lay on his lap, panting and twitching at the sensation of it all. “it’s just the ear, darling. surely, you can’t be that sensitive yet?” he eyes the cup of tea that he had brewed, suspiciously tinged with pink. “you haven’t finished your cup yet, you know.” “c… cup?” you slur, tongue feeling leaden. through half-lidded eyes, you can barely make out the sly smile on albedo’s lips. “wh… whaddya mean…?” huffing a fond laugh, albedo shakes his head and reaches out for the teacup, before tilting it into his mouth. his lips descend on yours, tongue swiping at your lips to be permitted entry. you part them, and the distinct taste of tea enters your mouth as he kisses you even deeper. “that’s what i mean,” he smiles, pulling away with naught but a string of saliva attached. now his cheeks glow pink, as he watches you with lustful eyes as pleasure and unbearable heat shake your body once again. “it’s time to fall even deeper, my love.”

#yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere venti #yandere kaeya alberich #yandere diluc ragnvindr #yandere albedo #yester.writes

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anantaru · 1 year

Text

— sleeping over for the first time

including scaramouche, heizou, kazuha, xiao x gn! reader

genre: fluff, they‘re nervous, kissing, loads of cuddling

— scaramouche

with absolute certainty, the moment you had asked scaramouche if you could sleep over at his place for the first time, his mind threatened to black out in front of your eyes.

obviously in your relationship, things were destined to be quite behind time, it was important for the both of you to take things slow and without rush so no one would end up feeling overwhelmed.

as luck would have it, it was clear you both were ready to take it a further level up.

naturally, it was one thing to meet each other and go on a date, but another to sleep over and spend the night, most importantly, wake up encircled in your arms the following day.

so for quite a while, it rattled an undeniable horror in his unruly thoughts, clearly scaramouche desired to have all ready and set for you but how was he possibly supposed to sleep while you're next to him?

what if the awkwardness would suddenly become so overbearing that one of you would die off suffocation?

mindlessly rehearsing the lines he had set in his brain, you at last, had come to sleep over at his place with his arms already greeting you.

"this is my bed, if you don't fancy it that's on you."

primarily calm, he had now turned back to his usual self, scaramouche found comfort in just being himself and he was thoroughly filled with joy that you did not mind his sense of wording.

"it looks very comfortable, i love it." he took in a second to indulge in your small compliment before snapping himself back to reality. "if you say so."

after a nice dinner the both of you shared, night already approached with you getting ready to sleep.

followed by putting on your sleeping garments, scaramouche and you lowered your bodies into the comfortable cushions together.

the contrast between your slightly nervous, but still composed being and him absolutely not knowing what to do with himself was somewhat hilarious in your eyes.

he could be especially adorable whenever he got flustered by small things like that, might remind him sometimes that that‘s one of the things that made you fall for him in the first place.

taking matters into your own hand, you slowly drew yourself to his body before cautiously looping one arm over his body to rest your head close to him.

scaramouche lightly flinched at your touch, just a bit, it took him off guard but he did not complain, in truth he was delighted that it was you who took the first step because he was sure he wouldn't be able to move a muscle all night.

breathing out relaxingly through your mouth, you voiced your last words to your boyfriend.

"goodnight kuni." to add to it, you made sure to leave a small but memorable kiss on his soft cheek before gathering yourself back on his cold chest.

barely, he was barely able to say anything back. But you sure oughta give him some slack for not saying anything snarky back, at this point he was more nervous than you were.

how do you seem so calm when he's literally dying next to you?

he very much rambled on about this in silence as he turned his body towards your own at last, to of course, embrace you back and get on with this.

his hand was until now shaking but gingerly stilled completely upon placing it on your warm hips.

"goodnight to you too."

— heizou

ah, well, you're mistakenly aware of your boyfriend and his infamous tendencies of being bold in your relationship.

lets say, the both of you shared a nice date together, strolling through the ever so ravishing inazuma city, hand in hand, before he decided to walk you home at last— as heizou tends to do quite often.

by the end of it you beckoned him to come inside for a couple more rounds of cuddling and sweet talks about your days.

but especially after all of that, heizou will become quite tired, he'd rub his blurry eyes ever so often and hug himself closer to your chest before just blurting it out to you.

"i'm sleeping here tonight, okay? okay."

his words were hazy and low now, they broke a little towards the end by how drowsy he had gotten, with that it was only a matter of time before he was fully gone.

"aren't you uncomfortable like this?"

it's as if he didn't even need an answer from you as well, heizou was extra sleepy and wasn't capable of moving a muscle, even if you denied his request, you'd be the one who’d have to walk him home instead.

his whole play with you was a hot take, but you did not mind. Clearly your relationship was very much fresh but it was going to happen sooner or later before you'd sleep over at his place, or vice versa.

especially since you preferred to sleep in your own bed, it was a lot more comfortable for you.

mindlessly, you slipped out of his grasp before he whined for you to come back. You rolled your eyes at him and struggled to piece the words he had thrown towards you together, at this point your boyfriend was simply muttering nonsense to himself.

the most important necessity in your eyes was to get a few extra blankets, in truth, you were quite nervous about all of this but the excitement deep within you took over.

the connection you shared with heizou was already strong on its own but to share a bed with him and wake up the next day was something deemed as romantically intimate in the beginning of each relationship.

before throwing a blanket over your boyfriend, you quickly slipped out of your clothes to put the garments you were sleeping in on, strolling back at last.

frankly then, you got a glance of heizou grimacing a loving grin at you through his sleepy face.

swiftly his arms flew up in the air towards your body to motion you back at him, whining like a puppy when you of course, obliged to his pleas.

"finally, i thought you'd never come back to me."

who knew heizou could be so dramatic when he was sleepy? "i was barely gone." at the last giggle, you closed your eyes to slumber away, this time with your boyfriend by your side.

heizou‘s natural body heat melted into you and at this, you felt secured, safe and were certainly ready to fall asleep.

— kazuha

as were most situations with your boyfriend kazuha, this too, was the result of a spontaneous effect taking place.

he truly couldn't keep his hands off you, they'd either have to be entangled with your own or carefully clasped around the entirety of your body.

after all, kazuha wanted you to be snug and warm at all times, ever so often rubbing calming circles on your back while you were telling him all about yet another boring day which somehow sounded exciting to him.

you see, kazuha was a great listener, and there was nothing he treasured more than you fully trusting him and talking about whatever crossed your mind.

so he figured, maybe, he should just ask if you want to sleep over tonight? it was already appeared to be quite the night, the scent of rain was laced around the cold air and he didn't want you to catch a cold either.

"what do you think of the idea to sleeping over at my place?"

he approached you slowly, noticeably he took baby steps to voice his question, whispering it against the shell of your ear while you were still locked in his sweet embrace.

"sure, if it's really fine by you."

deep within your core, you had anticipated this for a fine while, so you're naturally excited to finally fill a new sense of innocent intimacy in your relationship.

at this, you can be sure about it that kazuha will prepare everything himself, he wants you to feel just like home and doesn‘t require any help from you.

because you, in his heart, were his home so obviously he desired to awaken the same emotion in you. If his place became like a second secure home to you, he'd be more than delighted and filled with sheer bliss.

the thought alone of having his arms around you while dozing off to sleep together made his heart swell heavily, bubbling with excitement.

all the greater was the experience as he got back with an extra pair of blankets and a soft pillow, gently placing it where it belonged before draping the cover over your bodies.

"come here."

the next gesture of his was easy to decipher, kazuha wanted you near and spread his arms apart so you could properly find a homely spot to sleep on, embracing him back.

"are you comfortable?" he gingerly kissed your forehead, once, twice, before lowering his head to meet your glowing eyes, "i am."

the soft hums of his voice were relaxing like a silent sea on a calm night, helping you doze off.

furthermore, the once nervous emotion had soon gone missing and the anticipation of waking up next to your boyfriend the following day had you fancy all the future memories greeting you.

— xiao

it was clear as day that xiao was exceedingly more anxious and nervous than you were.

on top of that he wasn't certain on why he'd become so tense at something so ordinary than sharing a bed with each other.

of course, he wasn't the most experienced in the relationship department, but his mind would still spin uncontrollably within his lost thoughts.

at one particular point xiao's muscles would become so stiff, you'd actually have to ask him again if he was okay with you sleeping over tonight.

to add to his already embarrassing display, he now had to make sure he isn't scaring you off.

"of course you can stay, why wouldn't you?"

coughing right after answering, xiao repeated the same sentence in a much lighter, smoother voice.

"just asking, i want you to be comfortable."

you're certainly no stranger to your boyfriends personality, but unexpectedly to you, he did agree on spending the night together.

you could've bet on it that he would simply switch topics, which of course, wouldn't be a problem either.

"i‘m always comfortable with you by my side."

with someone as xiao, patience was key, you were ready to wait as much as needed for him to warm up to all of this, after all he hadn't encountered relationships like this before, meaning you were his first in many things.

xiao wasn't showing any signs of real emotions anymore, he simply laid flat and waited for you to be done in the bathroom.

you gradually lowered yourself to the snuggly bed afterwards with xiao sharply watching your every move.

from there on, you scooted closer to place your arm on him so he could lay his head on your chest, if he so desired it, you would never force anything on him.

"goodnight xiao, sleep well."

knowing full on well that xiao could become quite embarrassed by you simply looking at him, you closed your tired eyes and appeared to have been dozing off, not fully but almost.

it was then when he slipped himself towards you, closing the gap of your bodies to nuzzle himself in your chest, just a tiny bit, so featherlight he was almost unable to be perceived if it wasn't for his warm breath coating your collarbones.

tired of his own jagged breathing, he bit back his lip to force himself to calm his nerves before letting go of his tender muscles.

as his lips were carefully grazing over your tender skin— not to mention how he thought you were already long sleeping, he added a quick kiss on your collarbone.

you could discern that particular motion of his as a way to show worship and appreciation towards you.

obviously xiao was never full asleep, he honestly couldn't be, even if he tried.

if there was something to happen he had to be full on awake and face the so called enemies and protect you in the process.

but being directly confronted with a newly found emotion like this surely was scary at first, not because he was scared of you, but because he did not encounter a situation like this before.

at one point he debated what was harder to pass, a bloodthirsty fight or this.

yet for you, the fact that he had shown you slight factors of his own vulnerability was surreal, after all, there was nothing better than xiao showing you the undying trust he held towards your person.

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https-yeonjun · 3 months

Text

[5:40pm] (tomorrow x together)

wc. 949

genre. smut

tags. minors DNI!!! bf!txt x fem!reader, virgin!reader, masturbation

request. how do you think txt would react to walking in on virgin reader touching themselves 🤭

a/n. repost; this took an embarrassingly long time to write. i'm sorry it's kind of rushed but i hope you enjoy it

more of my work

he stepped through the front door, the creaking sound echoing in the unusually quiet house. it had become part of his routine to go over to your house after work, over the past four months since you both started dating. the familiar warmth of your presence awaited him, usually in the living room where you’d be engrossed in the glow of the tv.

yet today was different. the living room was silent, devoid of your usual presence.perplexed, he ventured further into the heart of the home. the soft glow of ambient light revealed an emptiness that seemed to transcend the physical space. the kitchen also lay still and barren. the lingering scent of food remained, but the countertops and neatly arranged utensils, and not even a dirty dish in sight, was almost like time froze in the wake of his entrance.

he called out your name, but to no avail. concern etched his features as he surveyed the house. his footsteps echoed through the hushed house as he retraced his usual path, seeking the familiar embrace of your company.

he walked upstairs, and as he approached your bedroom door, he heard faint whimpers. “hey, i’m here.” he announced, opening the door. he stops in his tracks when he lays his eyes on what one could possibly describe as a glorious sight – you lying in the soft embrace of your bed, clad in nothing but the delicate lace of your underwear, with one hand tracing the contours of your lacy panties and the other gently massaging your boob.

caught up in the moment, your face contorted in pleasure – your eyes closed in sheer delight, your head nestled against the soft pillow, your neck subtly arched, your lips parted slightly. as waves of pleasure coursed through you, the instinct to muffle impending moans found expression in the gentle bite of your bottom lip.

“hey,” his gentle voice wafted through the room. your eyes lifted, meeting him at the doorway where he stood. in a quick, instinctive response, you gathered the sheets around yourself.

“no, no, baby, don't do that.” he urged gently.

you lifted your gaze to meet his.

“can i watch you?” his voice tinged with a palpable awkwardness, as he cautiously inched closer to you.

your response lingered in the air. even though you had been together for a while, and you trusted him so much, this still felt scary. as you hesitated, the atmosphere in the room thickened. “we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he quickly reassured, sending your discomfort. your body remained rigid. “i can leave,” he offered, taking a step back.

in that moment, a surge of conflicting emotions overwhelmed you. “no,” you almost yelled out, your hand instinctively reaching out to him. “i mean, i don’t want you to leave. it’s just that we… i haven’t done anything like this before.”

“i know,” he sat on the bed beside you, the mattress slightly creaking under his weight.

soobin, kai:

“i just wanna watch.” his hands lightly brushed your hair. “you looked so pretty. can i watch you, please?” he sat beside you watching you in awe, palming his throbbing dick through his pants. your moans and whimpers filled his ears and he couldn’t help but throw his head back in pleasure. this felt so surreal to him – his pretty, innocent girlfriend sitting beside him, her hands dancing on her clit. “can i touch you?” you meekly asked him. he opened his eyes and looked down at you. you’re sitting up now, eying his cock in his pants. he swore he could cum right then and there. “you don’t have to… i promise, i just wanted to watch you.” he quickly added. “i know,” your voice was so quiet, barely above a whisper. “but i want to.”

beomgyu, taehyun:

“do you want me to help you?” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “i can help you, like tell you what to do. do you want me to do that?” you nodded eagerly, awaiting instructions. he ordered you to take off your underwear. you laid naked in front of him for the first time. you could feel the blood rush up to your face. you wanted to hide your face from him, but something urged you to stop. “we don’t have to do this, if you’re uncomfortable.” he broke you away from your thoughts. “no, no, i want to… it’s just new.” you tried to convince him. “just try to relax, yeah?” you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and listened intently to his words. his deep voice sent chills down your spine as you did everything he said, touching yourself. “you feel good, baby?” you tried to answer, but only a moan could manage to escape your lips.

yeonjun:

“can i touch you?” he asked, “i promise, i’ll make you feel so good, baby.” your eyes sparkled with an ardent ‘yes’. “tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” his hands skillfully slid your panties down. he pressed his hard thumb into your slit, causing you to grip tightly onto the sheets beneath you. his hands stroked your core, rubbing and flicking, inching you closer and closer to your climax. and then he pulls away. “why did you stop?” you asked, pouting. “can i taste you, please baby? want you to cum in my mouth.” before you knew it, his face was hidden between your legs. you were so close, your back arched off the mattress. you were floating when your orgasm crept up to you and you just need something to ground you, you reached down in search of his hands, holding him so tightly, like he would disappear if you didn’t.

taglist: @dearlyjun @naomiarai @boba-beom @atinyniki

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#fay's works #tomorrow x together smut #txt smut #txt x reader #soobin smut #yeonjun smut #beomgyu smut #taehyun smut #huening kai smut

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blackcoffeeofmelancholy · 5 months

Text

the brothers protect you from another demon

words: 4273

warnings: depictions of blood and violence, implied sexual assault, and dark themes

notes: I'm reuploading my previous work from my old blog, so I have everything in one place. I still have sequels to Mammon's and Leviathan's parts I have outlined and plan to write one day. And I'm slowly working on some new stuff when my brain allows me to lol.

As always, I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors that may have gone unnoticed. Thank you to those who take the time to read and comment on my work; it’s greatly appreciated ♥

LUCIFER

An unusual quiet fills the school, the halls empty. Lucifer appreciates the peace despite working after hours, the only sound that of his quill against parchment. Typically, he opts to retreat to his office after class; today he decides to stay behind while you attend your private study session. Unlike his brothers—save Satan—your grades are acceptable, aside from one class that is lowering your grade point average. He wishes to tutor you himself, unfortunately, his current workload is far greater than he’s accustomed to, completely monopolizing his free time. The least he can do is wait for you in the student council room and escort you home, allowing him to enjoy your company, although fleeting. He values every second he’s able to delight in your presence, your smile a light in the darkness of the Devildom, and the brush of your hand causing his heart to flutter, temporarily satisfying his temptations.

Collecting his belongings, he awaits your arrival, staring at the door in longing. However, you never appear, the minutes ticking by at an agonizing pace. He frowns, checking his D.D.D. in the event you messaged him—nothing. Perhaps the lecture is running over time . . . A cry cuts through the silence, true unadulterated fear chilling him to the bone and stealing the breath from his lungs. He recognizes your voice, the sound of your panic causing him to spiral, his usual composure lost to the demonic aura ominously swirling about him, wings drawn out and raised in all their glory. The frantic beating of his heart pounds in his ears as he rushes down the corridor, pulling the classroom door off its hinges and tossing it aside to reveal the sinful scene before him. You lay feebly on the desk, struggling to free yourself, your nails biting into the professor’s skin. Their hand covers your mouth, muffling your screams, and the demon is grinning, pleasure dancing in their eyes. Lucifer sees red.

The stern call of his name grounds him in reality. He turns to meet Diavolo’s solemn gaze, the prince commanding him to stand down. Lucifer is indignant, hesitating to follow orders, yet he relents with a bow of his head. Blood splatters the walls and floor, the demon’s body lying motionless at his feet, limbs dangling at awkward angles and an arm precariously thrown across the room. He’s certain his actions are justifiable, but a part of him is overcome with shame at his loss of control. Glancing in your direction, he feels a swell of pride knowing he protected you—the most important person in his life; what wouldn’t he do to ensure your happiness? He entrusts the aftermath to Diavolo, eager to return to the House of Lamentation where he keeps you in his sight. Thankfully, your injuries are minor, it’s the shock that leaves you trembling in his arms. To his satisfaction, you stay in his embrace the remainder of the night into the morning, leaning into his gentle touches and kisses against your brow. No demon will harm you again; that’s a promise he’s sure to keep.

MAMMON

Mammon takes pleasure in the high gambling provides him, unable to curb his addiction much to his brothers’ frustration. They berate him for his losses, though there are times he emerges victorious, amassing a decent amount of Grimm behind their backs. Today the Great Mammon feels generous, inviting you to hang out after class. It’s the start of the weekend, and he craves your company, wanting to steal you away from his brothers. Knowing he has you all to himself leaves him giddy, his excitement evident in the blush spreading across his cheeks, the heat traveling down his neck and straight to his heart. When you smile, he can hardly breathe, awkwardly avoiding your gaze in an attempt to collect his bearings. His act of indifference is steadily falling to pieces, the Avatar of Greed practically melting at the warmth of your hand in his, threading your fingers together. He can’t deny the happiness you bring him, his gaze softening as you eagerly thank him, looking at him in adoration. Sure, he’s greedy, but he enjoys treating you, preferring your love to the Grimm in his pockets.

The streets are quiet, stars shining overhead and lighting the path home. Disappointment wells inside him the closer you get to the House of Lamentation, desperately wishing the night could last forever. Perhaps it’s selfish of him, however, his desire grows the longer you’re together, fanning the fire that threatens to consume him. He stops, turning to glance at you. It’s easy to imagine himself holding you against him, his hand on your cheek, gently tilting your head up to catch your lips in a kiss. Instead, he rests his hands on your shoulders, mouth unbearably dry, his confidence shaken the moment you lock eyes. Slowly, he leans forward, closing the distance between you only to hear you scream his name. He’s on the ground before he can react, confusion and panic clouding his thoughts. A growl escapes him, wings snapping into place on impulse, and his demonic aura shifting around him threateningly. Anger, hot and intense, swelters below the surface at the sight of you at another demon’s mercy, struggling to free yourself of their grip, nails biting into and breaking your skin. Your panicked expression physically pains him, his mind racing, assessing the situation.

Initially, he’s overcome with the urge to kill, poised to attack and tear the pathetic demon limb by limb, their cries music to his ears. Yet he hesitates, cursing the bastard for using you to their advantage, your body their shield; he can’t put your life at risk. He feels helpless, repulsed by such a display of weakness. How can you call him your protector when he fails to keep you safe? If he’s so great, why is he the one backed into a corner, sensing the fear that clings to you and now overwhelms his senses? He regards the demon warily, exchanging his wallet for you, briefly mourning the loss. They grab your wallet as well as the shopping bags, disappearing into the shadows with their spoils. Mammon considers hunting them down and personally showing them how hellish the Devildom can be, vowing their crimes won’t go unpunished. Despite the rage still boiling within him, he wraps you in his arms, nearly in tears as he breathes in your scent. His apology dies in his throat at the gentle touch of your hands cupping his face, drawing him into a kiss, your lips trembling against his. You’re irreplaceable. His world. He can’t envision life without you.

LEVIATHAN

It’s not often Leviathan leaves the comfort of his bedroom, venturing out into the Devildom, though he makes an exception for you. Most of your time together is spent playing video games or watching anime. Your constant reassurance eases his mind at the moment, yet he can’t help worrying you’ll tire of what he has to offer. Compared to his brothers, he’s pathetic, a gross otaku who is undeserving of your love and attention. He doubts himself, finding it difficult to ignore the voice in his head telling him he’s worthless, wishing he could be as suave as Lucifer or as smooth as Mammon. Why do you give him the time of day? Asking you to accompany him took all the courage he could muster, and now he wonders if he made the right choice. He wants to return the favor, bringing you the same joy you bring him, a bright light in the darkness that envelopes him. Loneliness no longer plagues him, and he finally feels understood—accepted—but does he take more than he gives?

The aquarium is scenic, your eyes widening in wonder while he tells you about the Devildom’s sea creatures, smiling fondly at a colorful school of fish as they swim past. He planned your date with painstaking precision, initially proud of himself; now he’s uncertain. Of course, he’s enjoying the aquarium, reminded of the ocean. He pictures the gentle flow of the waves washing to shore, and the salty breeze tousling his hair, soothing his nerves. You seem happy—are you? Afterward, he takes you to a nearby café. Seated outside, the weather pleasant, he glances at you, trying to gauge your expression. He can’t help thinking how incredibly cute you are, swallowing thickly as he reaches over to grab your hand. His heart is pounding. Surely you can feel the sweat on his palm, but you don’t pull away, leaning forward. He could kiss you, instead, he blushes, wishing he could hide in shame the second you frown. Ready to apologize for being a spineless coward, he hesitates, the sound of laughter drawing his gaze to the table behind you.

A couple of demons leer in your direction, snickering loudly. Your hand trembles in his, and he can see the way their words wound you, each scornful comment a critical hit to your self-esteem. They call you pathetic, a disgusting human who’s tarnished the Devildom’s image—you don’t belong here, especially not at the Avatar of Envy’s side. He stands, confronting the demons. Leviathan is a stuttering mess, his anxiety rising, but he’s determined to defend your honor. You grab his arm, reassuring him it’s alright; the demons are amused. They mockingly apologize, making a point to bump into you as they leave, sending you and your drink to the ground. The look of dejection on your face crushes him. Before he knows it, he’s summoned Lotan, flooding the streets. Luckily, his tail is wound securely around your waist, anchoring you to him so you aren’t washed away in the chaos. He brings you closer, pulling you into an awkward hug. Your date is ruined; he can’t recover from this. He apologizes profusely, hoping you don’t hate him. Are you okay? Is there anything you need? Anything he can do? He’s stunned when you wrap him in your arms, pressing a light kiss to his lips. Head spinning, he sucks in a breath and kisses you back. He loves his Henry, and no one hurts you and gets away with it.

SATAN

Although he’s the embodiment of wrath, Satan is calm and complacent in your company, your soothing aura bringing him an inner peace that eluded him in the past. The day is perfect, the quiet of the bookstore with you by his side his ideal date. Your brows knit in concentration as you flip through a book, and he stifles a laugh, gazing at you affectionately. He’s drawn to you, the light of your soul mesmerizing him, leaving him breathless. A demon of knowledge, he resigns himself to the fact love is unexplainable, no longer questioning how a human managed to capture his heart; he welcomes the feeling, the fire you ignited burning relentlessly. You shelve the book, and he takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, lips curling against your skin into a satisfied smile at your blush. He pulls you into his embrace, thankful to have you in his life. The world was a dark place before you entered it, desolate and chaotic; now it is nothing but a distant memory.

Taking advantage of the bookstore’s café, he stands in line while you look for a table. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts about him, and he eyes the pastries on display, deciding to surprise you with a sweet treat that will compliment your drink. When he turns to find you, you’re gone. Your D.D.D. lays abandoned on a table in the corner, no sign of you, his gaze flitting back and forth, scouring his surroundings. He waits, hoping you’ll reappear. Doubt begins to weave its way into his mind, a surge of adrenaline driving him to wander into the labyrinth of shelves, his anger and impatience growing the longer you’re not next to him—safe and sound. He comes across a trail of blood, his heart dropping. How could he leave you alone, vulnerable to the evils that still plague the Devildom? The bookstore gave him a false sense of security, becoming a place he could rely on to escape. Yet not for a human such as yourself, demons prowling in plain sight, considering you prey to hunt.

In the backroom, he hears your cries. To say he’s furious is an understatement, he’s beyond livid, repulsed by the hand around your neck, and the tongue of the demon trailing down your neck to taste your blood. The remnants of the self-restraint he clung to relent to a blinding rage exploding within him, electrifying the atmosphere. Wrath consumes him, knowing no bounds. You’re protected in his arms, the building in flames once he regains control, the mangled body of the demon lost to the inferno. It’s a shame, he thinks, that the books must perish along with them—innocent victims of his bloodlust. Nevertheless, you’re alive, face buried in his chest. He’s sorry he foolishly let his guard down, putting you in harm’s way and forcing you to bear witness to the true powers of the Avatar of Wrath. Satan expects you to fear him. However, you allow him to tend to your injuries upon your return to the House of Lamentation. He’s gentle, wishing he could rid you of your pain, but he’s a truly demonic being, only capable of hurting you further. Your hand on his catches his attention, coaxing him into bed with you, giving him a sliver of hope. Holding you in the darkness, he tells you he loves you more than anyone or anything and promises to protect you—always.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus takes pleasure in the praise of his adoring fans, their compliments and gifts are one of the best parts of his day. He craves their undivided love and attention, enjoying the feel of their eyes on him, enraptured by his ethereal beauty. There are demons who vigorously pursue him, going to great lengths to capture his heart, though it belongs to you, skipping a beat each time the thought of you enters his mind. He notices the jealous gazes that fall upon you as they wish they stood at his side instead, fantasizing they’re the object of his affection, not you. No one can replace you; his love for you is unrivaled. However, he finds their envy entertaining, relishing the fact he’s so passionately sought after, fanning the flames of desire. Demons stare heatedly at the two of you, the lights of The Fall accentuating his radiance; he’s a diamond, positively glowing.

Snaking an arm about your waist, he draws you close to whisper how adorable you look, his lips brushing against your ear. Your skin is warm and your mouth parts in a breathy sigh the moment he kisses you, hands sliding beneath your shirt to rest at the small of your back. He can feel your heart racing as you shyly touch him, your innocence captivating the Avatar of Lust. Temptation urges him to lead you away from prying eyes, appreciating all his human has to offer in privacy, until he tastes blood on his tongue, choking on the bitterness of it. Pulling away, he barely manages to catch you, dismayed by the gaping wound now marring your flesh. Through his tears, he glares at the demon that stands behind you, fingers wound tightly around the hilt of a blade tainted by your blood. They declare their undying love for him, expressing relief and happiness at getting rid of the competition—they hurt you to get to him. Asmodeus wants nothing more than to escape the Hell he’s forced to endure, for once resenting any love that’s not yours.

The club comes to a standstill. His anger is tangible, hanging thickly in the air, the crowd watching in awe at the dark beauty that is Asmodeus, wings arching gracefully and the sweet scent of roses encircling him, entrancing those in his presence. He begrudgingly leaves your side, promising to return, chest tightening at the sight of you, his poor fragile human. The demon is on their knees, proclaiming their love so all can hear. His stomach churns in disgust; he’s heard enough. Wrenching the knife out of their grip, he drives it straight into their heart, watching their body drop to the ground. He carefully gathers you in his arms, walking into the cool Devildom night. The breeze tousles your hair, moonlight shining on your eerily pale face. Holding you as if his life depends on it, he makes the excruciating trek back to the House of Lamentation, praying this nightmare comes to an end. He’s beyond grateful your injuries aren’t fatal, yet he continues to sob, crawling into bed next to you. In the darkness of your room, he tells you you’re loved, apologizing, hoping you’ll forgive him once you awake.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub smiles to himself, taking pleasure in the delectable aroma of the lavish meal spread before him. Hunger overwhelms the Avatar of Gluttony, the emptiness filling his stomach particularly strong following an exhausting but rewarding workout. Hell’s Kitchen never fails to satiate his appetite, and your company proves to be the cherry on top, his eyes catching yours from across the room while you tend to the customers, causing his grin to widen in unbridled joy. He considers himself lucky to have you as his server, giving him the chance to talk to you when you stop by his table. A blush warms his cheeks at your touch, your fingers brushing along his lips to wipe away the crumbs on his face. He laughs, and you smile in return; he wishes to taste the sweetness of it, the craving difficult to ignore.

Gathering his used plates, he watches you disappear behind the kitchen doors, absentmindedly shoving a forkful of food into his mouth. He hums happily, wondering what he’ll order for dessert, drool dribbling down his chin as his thoughts return to you, the sweetest treat in the restaurant—no—the entire Devildom. Angry shouts startle him, and he nearly chokes, glancing up to see you thrown into the wall, dishes and food strewn about the floor. A demon hovers above you menacingly, your apologies drowned out by their incessant shrieking; Beelzebub’s fork clatters to his feet at the commotion. His demonic instincts take possession of him, the table overturning the second he stands, wings propelling him forward until he wedges himself between you and the lowly demon he glowers down at, their bones shattering after they connect with the hardened muscles of his abs. Beelzebub growls.

The demon pleads for forgiveness, though Beelzebub is merciless, enjoying the satisfying pop of their arm dislodging from the socket as he pulls them back and throws them through the wall, leaving behind a gaping hole in the building; a heavy silence hangs in the air, the patrons and staff avoiding his gaze. Dust settles around them, the aftershocks making the ceiling lamps sway, and the door fall off its hinges. He pays no mind, gently picking you up to hold you protectively against his chest. Your body trembles, bloody cuts and scrapes covering your skin, yet you look at him in adoration, showering him with words of gratitude. He chuckles, merely thankful you’re safe in his arms; he’s not planning to let you go any time soon either. Stepping over the debris, he escorts you home, carefully tending to your injuries in the privacy of your room where the two of you whisper your love for one another. His hunger is long forgotten, replaced by an unusual fullness as he kisses you, his heart overflowing with emotion.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor’s heart stops when he hears you scream out in pain, falling to the floor at his feet. On instinct, he kneels beside you, arms pulling you into his protective embrace. He barely registers his own voice echoing in his ears, choking on your name in his desperation and fear. Blood stains your skin and his hands, slipping through trembling fingers despite his best efforts to staunch the flow. Your body grows limp, losing its familiar warmth, and his hope begins to vanish with it, the crushing weight of emptiness snaking its way into his soul. His gaze trails over the dark bruises on your neck to the blood at the corner of your mouth, tears clouding his vision and dampening your cheeks the moment he feels your pulse fade out under his touch.

Despair consumes him, his cries turning into howls of rage that shake the walls and shatter windows, unadulterated demonic energy rolling off him in waves. Looking up into the arrogant face of the demon who murdered you without mercy, he stiffens upon finding his own eyes staring back at him, an impish smile contorting his features. Your blood is on his hands, beneath his nails, splattered across his clothes. His doppelganger laughs at his stunned expression, tail flicking in amusement. Belphegor wonders if this is what you saw the day you freed him, the thought leaving him nauseated. Growling, he lunges forward to wipe that disgusting smirk from his lips as he wraps his hands around the Avatar of Sloth’s neck, tightening his grip until the bones give way, body sagging in defeat. He deserves far worse for hurting you.

The sound of his name diverts his attention, the world melting away around him, and he blinks in the dim light of the attic. Your face comes into focus above him, brows furrowed in worry. It takes him a second to gather his bearings, realizing your gentle fingers are wiping away his tears and brushing back his hair, his chest constricting at the sight of you alive. Sitting up, he draws you against him, savoring the heat of your body. He’s relieved when you simply hold him in return, allowing him to sob into the crook of your neck. Belphegor wants to apologize, to thank you for giving him a second chance although he never earned it, yet the words die on his tongue. Instead, he kisses you, pouring every ounce of the love he holds for you into the gesture. No one will hurt you again; that’s a promise he intends to keep.

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madxyy · 9 days

Text

Selfish

| pairing : peter x reader

| summary: your boyfriend comes home injured--as usual--late at night and you can't help but want him safe from his life as spider-man

| warnings: fluff, touching wrists (sigh, again), y/n used once, baby used, peter being cute and angsty as usual, reader also being cute, light angst

author's note: i am trying to write angst so bare with me lol

2 am.

It’s always when you hear that faint knock on your window that makes all your worries wash away in a split second. But not today, no, today was different. You were waiting all night to hear that thud on the firescape or the cries of the window seal being opened. All night you were absorbed in your own anxieties and worries. Your hopes were dreading as time went by. You were getting scared for the local crime fighting hero and you did everything in your power to take your mind off it.

You really did.

Drawing, watching tv, listening to music, cleaning the room—which was a bad idea as it just bought you a reminder of the boy who has your heart. You would stumble upon Peter's belongings that were scattered around your shared apartment like confetti: his engineering notes, his sweaters, his latest sketch of a brilliant idea he had to improve his spider-man suit. It only made your heart ache even more, longing for his presence and increasing your worries for your vigilante boyfriend. So you would take another route and try binge-watching a new season of a recent tv show you are watching, which would likely just be collecting dust in the column of ‘continue watching.’

Your mind keeps on going back to him. ‘He’s okay. He’s okay.’ You thought to yourself. ‘He’s coming back to me. He’ll be alright. He’s probably on his way right now. It’s just going to be a scratch, hopefully. He's going to be okay, right? Oh god. Oh god.’

As much as you love and adore that your boyfriend is helping the city and its people by saving anyone from another lab experiment gone wrong or from a dangling car that’s about to fall off a bridge, you can't help but wonder if he would ever take care of himself. It’s hard seeing him everytime he comes through your window with a new bruise on his keen jawline, a wound on his ribs, a scar on his hip. You couldn’t deal with it anymore. You wish he stopped just for his own safety. You know it’s selfish but is it so wrong to want him safe? Just the thought of turning on the news and seeing J. Jameson reporting: “Breaking News: Our local friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man reported dead by …”

You want him back with you already, his arms wrapped around you, drowning you into his warm embrace, so distinctly Peter, while he whispers soft and reassuring words that always mend your heart. You long to hear his random facts about science, see his lopsided smile that always welcomes you back into reality whenever you wake up next to him each morning. You yearn for his contagious laugh that makes your heart throb in delight over the euphonious sound. You want to smile at the tics he does when he gets nervous or the way he avoids eye contact and scratches the back of his neck when he is stuck in an awkward situation. You want him to be back so you can smooch the newly embedded scars that are planted all over his body which you love kissing away everyday when he wakes up. You want to see his dimples that adorn his face when he smiles wide enough because he finally got his web shooters to work, followed by a triumph fist bump to the air. You want to see his eyes, oh his eyes: brown, soft, autumnal, brimming with love and warmth, despite the grief and cruelty he has been absorbed in. His scent, a mix of cedarwood and asphalt (due to his high-flying urban adventures). You want to see the way his hair sticks up in the morning whilst the sun gives it a mixture of honey and bronze aura, running your hands through the mused up tufts of hair, which always leads to the corners of his eyes crinkling up as a sleepy, boyish smile tugs up on his rosy lips.

Selfish. You can’t help it.

You waited as long as you could; staring at your window for who knows how long. Your eyes were trained on the window for a good while, but you couldn't help it, all this anxiety finally got to you and you were feeling drained and your posture slumps with exhaustion. Your eyes burn from keeping them open, and soon those same eyes start to slowly droop. Blinking back sleepiness proved futile; your head eventually settled onto the cool silk of your pillow. The material greets your cheek, making it easier for you to be welcomed into slumber.

It was 4 am, yet your worries haven’t gone down at all. Your eyelids started to grow heavier, and darkness gradually enveloped your senses, until you heard a faint knock on your window, piercing the silence.

Your heart leapt, and you twisted towards the sound. In an instant, sleep was gone.

Not even a second later you heard your window opening—mm the sound of the cries. Your tired, red eyes snapped open. You were met with a disheveled and drained Peter Parker. His hair sticking to the nape of his neck and forehead, sweat giving him a post-shower appearance. A large laceration marred his chest. Oh. Your stomach dropped, eyes widened with horror at the sight of the injury. It looked like he was scratched -- no, clawed by someone or something. With quick motion, you quickly peel away the sheets, disentangling yourself from its soft embrace, and quickly hurrying to his side.

“Peter” you gasped softly. A hand settles onto his latex-clad one, the other arm wrapping around his waist to support him as you guide both him towards your bed, placing him where you had lain just seconds before. “It’s not that bad, don’t worry about it, seriously, I mean you should see the o-” Peter quickly swallows his words upon seeing your stern glare. He slumps his head downwards as he sighs in defeat.

You sigh, telling him quietly that you'll be back soon. You left him for a few moments before coming back with a wet rag. Gently, you tug at the suit, trying to cautiously take it off him without aggravating his wounds. Soon, you were met with his bare torso, which is marked with a huge claw mark. You mentally steel yourself before starting to lightly clean around the injury, dabbing the wet rag gently onto his toned chest as you avoid his eyes. It’s not like you were trying to make him feel bad, but you were also trying to cope with the situation. You don’t know if you were mad, relieved, sad, maybe all of the above? Uncertain emotions swirl within you, but one fact anchors your turbulent thoughts: he is here, safe, and alive. That's what truly matters.

Peter seems to catch your avoided gaze, he studies you for a few minutes. Biting the inside of his cheek as he purses his lips to the side, trying to figure out how to approach this situation. He takes in your furrowed eyebrows, the way you’re also biting the inside of your cheek as you put all your strength into avoiding his worried amber eyes. He knew the consequences of inviting someone into his dangerous life, it wasn’t exactly a warm and inviting embrace, nor was it appealing, but what he didn’t fully grasp is how it truly hurts you, in more ways than one. “Y/N…” he whispered, rough hands that have been through so much and experienced so much, reaching for the comfort of your skin but you gently dodge his touch, leading to a sudden twinge of anguish in his heart. You give him a slight smile to distinguish any suspicion – I mean, you weren’t doing a good job at it – before you continued cleaning the dirt away from his injury. Peter’s eyebrows furrow while his lips start to droop downwards, a frown laid upon his lips at the rejection.

Biting the inside of your cheek harder to stop the tears from flowing down the curve of your cheekbones. You keep on wiping his cuts clean, overs and overs again, getting flashbacks of his visits from the last time you had to patch him up. Blurred vision starts taking over your eyesight and all you can think about is his pain, what he goes through, his blood, the thought of losing him, life without him, the many ‘what ifs.’ The many times he almost visited death's door. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was like a burning sensation bubbling in the back of your throat, the sadness was too hard to keep buried down now. You started shaking and before you knew it your sobs filled the walls and all your fears were coming out of you in the form of a liquid pea that contained so much. As soon as the warm liquid left a path down the curve of your cheeks, peter panicked and rose to action just like the hero he is—your hero.

Quickly sitting up and fixing his posture, which made him wince slightly from the injuries but he pushed through, his mind set on you and only you. He wipes the tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes the wet rag away from your slightly shaky grip; gently putting it on your nightstand before he lightly reaches both of his hands out and holds onto your wrists.

“I can't” You choke out a sob.

“Hey shh it’s okay baby, what’s wrong? You can’t, what? Tell me,” He coos.

He hunches down, trying to find those eyes of yours that he swears are otherworldly, but you just can’t. You can’t see him like this. Hurt. In pain. Suffering. It pains you that he is in this much pain -- you can’t. “Peter I just… ” he gently takes your face in his hand, caressing your cheekbones with his thumbs that are growing wet from your moist cheeks. His heart hurts from the sight of you crying, it conjures a deep-seated throb of pain in his eyes. “Look at me,” he whispers softly, gently nudging your head up with his right hand that is slowly descending down to grasp your chin as if you were a treasure, in a way you are, to peter you are his treasure, the main reason he even gets up or even tries, you are his rock, the only thing that makes sense in his life, and god does he love you, he loves you so much that his heart hurts. A quiet sigh escapes you, it sounds defeated. “Please,” He pleaded oh-so-gently, his gaze unwavering but patient. You sniffle before swallowing down a ball of saliva forming in your throat. As soon as you look up you are met with a pair of almond-shaped umber eyes that are filled with the utmost care, worry, and a hint of guilt.

“Talk to me..” he whispers desperately, his heart crushing at the pain you are experiencing, he just wants to take it all away with his soft whispers but he knows they will be in vain. Shakingly exhaling “I can’t,” you frantically shake your head. “Please baby…” A few silent beats pass before you finally look back up to find those amber eyes looking back at you with nothing but worry and sincerity.

You take a deep breath before swallowing deeply ”Peter...I just…” another beat passes. You take a sharp deep breath. “I just really wish you would take more care of yourself, I...I know you love saving people and fighting crime and trust me I love you deeply for that but you come home everyday with a new wound that’s even deadlier than the last one,” You pause, licking your salty lips. “aren’t you worried that maybe those people that you save won’t have anyone to save them if they’re local neighborhood spider-man won’t be there to save them anymore..?” You ask him, almost in a plea. Peter bites the inside of his cheek, thinking over your words with a solemn expression forming on his face that are littered in small cuts from his last escapades. He diverts his gaze to the floor and the room is quickly overcome with silence as he takes in your words, letting the heaviness of your words sink in.

The silence fills the room, it lets you both engulf into your own thoughts. Peter knew what it meant when he finally told you he was the unmasked superhero. He remembers spilling his deadly secret on a rooftop late at night, where you both were admiring the stars, laying on a blanket and talking about anything and everything. He remembers looking over at you and admiring the way the moon was cascading down on you, making you look even more angelic and completely ethereal.

Peter looks at you hurt and guilty and god do you hate that. Both of you guys shared a gaze that held so much that it made the room feel denser as the distant sounds of ambulances filtered through the slightly open window. A breeze wafts in, brushes against you both, causing small goosebumps to prick up on your skin. Peter grew to learn from his past relationships and the impact it had on his partner knowing he was Spider-Man, which is why it hurts him to know he is the one making you feel like this. A calloused hand slowly creeps up, gently grasping your cheek with the utmost care, as if you were made of glass and he was scared of causing further harm. “I know, I know,” He murmurs, his voice breaking while his toughened fingers absentmindedly traces the curve of your cheek. “It’s just so hard to stop when I know I can make a difference.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as his words sink in. Your heart breaks knowing how much his words are true and the scary reality that he won’t stop until crime is put to bed and everyone can roam around the streets freely. You shook your head, one hand gently grasping his wrist. “But at what price, Pete?” you ask ever-so-softly like the question itself was forbidden territory. Those eyes that he loves so deeply, look up into his eyes and it causes a gnawing feeling in his chest, almost making him wince from how hurt you look, how scared you look. Peter bites the inside of his cheek a bit harder while furrowing his brows, trying to think of what to tell you because he himself doesn’t know.

He takes a shaky breath, adjusting the grip on your face and slowly pulling your head a bit closer until both of your foreheads are resting against one another, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. The brush of skin itself was tender-filled, telling a millions of words with just one movement. “I am just sick of all the crimes happening here and the cops not even doing anything about it.” Peter whispered, his voice a low blend of anger and helplessness. You could feel the raggedness of his breath, each exhale a testament to the battles he fought alone in the shadows of the city. The close proximity allowed you to see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his eyes shuttered as if bracing against a storm of inner conflict. “Peter, I know you care – it’s one of the things I love about you,” you respond gently, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his clammy forehead. “But you can’t carry this burden alone. It’s too much for one person, even for Spider-Man.” Your voice was a soothing whisper, trying to pierce the armor of duty he wore so steadfastly.

Peter simply nodded, the weight of the world momentarily lightened by your understanding. You saw the fortress around his heart crumbling, if only just a bit. His eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, now shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the constant battle between his duty and his love for you.

“I’m sorry…” Peter’s voice broke through the silence, each word heavy with remorse. He leans forwards, delicately kissing your forehead which grounds you and makes you close your eyes momentarily as you cherish the soft kiss that eases your heart just a bit. “I am sorry for not fully understanding what you are going through. I am so, so sorry,” He whispers into the dark night, the words flowing into the air as gently as ever. A few beats of silence pass while you take in his words. It gave your weary heart time to mend. Peter leaned back slightly so he could get a better look at you, his gaze locked with yours, conveying a depth of sincerity and vulnerability. “I’m truly, deeply, sorry” He whispers once more before he starts to softly press kisses underneath where your ear and jaw meet, your cheeks, forehead, nose, the wrinkles in the middle of your eyebrows, smoothing them out with the pad of his thumb, and finally kissing your lips, so delicately, it makes you want to cry even more.

The kiss was so deliberate, it was a bundle of promises that his lips sealed to keep, an abundance of love, tenderness, deep affection and care that runs so deeply into his veins that it affects his touches and kisses, he can’t help but pour it all into the kiss, he just wanted you to know how sorry he is. He wanted you to know that he never meant to hurt you, whether it was indirect or direct. It makes your heart flutter and reassures your timid heart. Slowly one hand moves to cup the left side of your face as his other hand descends down towards the side of your neck as peter tastes the saline on your moist-tear lips, but even that doesn’t stop him from pressing gentle kisses against your lips, it only fuels his love, turning the kisses even more tender. Each kiss conveys a message of “I’m sorry, I love you, please know I love you.” You can taste the metallic on his lips as your lips were caressing his back as equally gently and lovingly, your kisses filled with a message of “It’s okay, I love you.”

Peter slowly pulls back from the kiss, his mouth hovers over yours, his breath fanning over your lips, noses rubbing against each other in the tenderest manner ever. Both of your eyes were still closed, taking in everything, cherishing one another. His right hand moving back up to cradle your face, both hands cradling your cheeks and caressing them with the pad of his thumbs in a feather-like caress. You nuzzle your cheek against his right hand, feeling the rough and calloused palm that you grew to admire and adore. It always provided you with such care and comfort, always caressing or reaching out to gently touch you. Both of your hands now encircled around his wrist, caressing the inside of it so softly that it makes Peter almost melt.

Slowly, Peter opens his eyes. His amber gaze held nothing but love and the utmost care. Shortly after he opened his eyes, your eyes opened as well. Both of you search each other’s eyes as a white noise of admiration passes you both. After a moment of silent communion, the air between you both thickens with unspoken words and shared feelings, Peter finally speaks, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet room. “I can’t promise there won’t be more nights like this,” he says, his honesty laying bare the truth of both of your lives entwined with danger and uncertainty. “But I promise you, no matter how many crazy guys in suits I have to fight, I’ll always do my best to come back… to this, to us.”

This promise, simple yet profound, strikes a chord within you. It’s not a heroic declaration from Spider-Man, but a heartfelt vow from Peter Parker, the boy behind the mask, the one you fell in love with. His words acknowledge the reality of his life—danger is part of the package, yet he’s equally committed to your shared life, to you, and he isn’t going anywhere.

You feel a surge of mixed emotions: fear for the dangers he faces, gratitude for his honesty, and love for the person he is. “And I’ll be here,” you say, matching his tone with a blend of seriousness and affection, “not just to patch you up and be your personal nurse, but to love you.” The corners of his lips quirk up, his eyes twinkling with love as he takes in your words. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, a silent vow of his commitment. “Thank you,” he whispers, gratitude resonating in his voice, “for everything.”

“Of course,” You whispered.

The two of you stay like that, embraced in the warmth of your love for one another, finding comfort in the silence that now speaks volumes. The world outside, with its chaos and challenges, seems momentarily distant as you both cherish this safe haven of understanding and love you’ve created together.

#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #the amazing spider man #andrew garfield #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman #tasm andrew garfield #light angst #fluff #peter parker fluff #tasm fluff

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marwolaeth-76 · 5 months

Note

Hello! :3

Could you possibly do a one-shot of veneer from trolls with a fem reader, were veneer and reader are secretly dating?

Hello!! thank you for your request and thank you for waiting, I enjoyed writing this, I hope you enjoy it!🩷

Veneer x !femReader secretly couple

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You are an art designer for another group, which is strongly at odds with the duo Velvet and Veneer for popularity. But there’s just something that no one knows about, not your bosses or your friends. This is that you and Veneer a couple with the same singer from the famous duet. In general, you knew each other even before their stardom, you studied at the same college, but your paths diverged in different directions. But, having accidentally encountered backstage at some talk show where Velvet and Veneer were there, and your boss was supposed to be filming next to them, you saw your old friend and started talking. He told you about how he likes to receive so much attention from people, that he is delighted with things that he can afford with a snap of his fingers, Veneer listened attentively about how you found your job, and how you creatively think through images for your pop singer. He noted that he really liked their image, although at that time he did not know that you had a hand in it. In general, admired by your creativity, and you by his talent, you decided to keep in touch, but not advertise it, why the extra noise? as it turned out, it was a good decision, because soon, after walking and spending time together, you would feel a little more for Veneer than simple friendship. And now, after just a month, you notice small hints of romance from Veneer, a little more touching, a little more compliments on your appearance and random gifts. After that, you decided to take everything into your own hands, and as a result of a very awkward conversation, you both realized that you liked each other. You took a deep breath as you smoothed out your hair, trying to make yourself look as presentable as possible. Tonight was the big concert that Velvet and Veneer were performing, and as usual you were in the audience to support your secret boyfriend. As much as Veneer liked you, keeping your relationship private was necessary. Velvet would never approve of him dating a assistant to competitors, and if she found out it could spell disaster. So you two only dared to show affection when you were alone. The lights dimmed and the crowd roared as Velvet took the stage. You cheered and clapped along with everyone else, eager for Veneer to join her. When he appeared, dancing and singing backup as always, your heart soared at the sight of him. Even through the bravado he put on for performances, you could see the affection in his eyes when he looked your way. After a few high energy numbers, it came time for a slow song. Velvet took center stage alone as Veneer slipped off to the side. You watched him hoping for a signal, and sure enough he tilted his head toward the exit door. Making your excuse to leave, you hurried outside to meet him in the shadows. “I've been dreaming about holding you all night, I'm really lonely without you“ Veneer sighed as he pulled you close, tangling his hands in your hair. You embraced him, savoring the feeling of being in his arms without prying eyes. For a few brief moments you could pretend you were a normal couple, stolen away for a romantic rendezvous. All too soon the song ended and Veneer had to return. With a lingering kiss he whispered, “we'll see you again soon, sweetheart“ -Then he disappeared back into the light and noise of the crowd, leaving you holding the memory of his touch. It was enough to carry you through until you could be together again.

PS. it didn’t write out as much as I would have liked, but I didn’t know what exactly could be written, sorry🥺

♡♡♡♡♡♡

#veneer trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #velvet trolls #trolls 1 #trolls 2 #fluff

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spaghettiposts · 1 year

Text

Language Barriers

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Requested: No.

Genre: Fluff

Wanda Maximoff was one of the most affectionate humans on earth. Whether it was handholding to full-on cuddling she had to be touching you in some way.

When you asked her about it she merely passed it off as her nature but something told you otherwise. She wasn’t nearly as affectionate with your other teammates. The last time you’d seen her show affection was the time she gave Tony a handshake after fixing her suit. It was a very awkward handshake.

So naturally, you were a little confused as to why she showed you more affection than the others. Maybe it was because of how close you both had become over the years together but some part of you hoped it was due to something else.

Either way, it didn’t surprise you to wake up to the feeling of her hair on your face. A feeling you knew all too well. Gently, you moved her hair from your mouth as much as you enjoyed her warmth. She had hair like a lion.

It was another one of those days where you’d wake up to her tangled into your body. Honestly, it was confusing, to say the least. You didn’t know what your relationship was with the witch but it was starting to seem more than platonic which you wouldn’t be complaining about.

Unfortunately, insecurity is a bitch so there was no way you’d be asking anytime soon. Instead, you’d just enjoy her company. Which were her soft snores, you thought they were adorable, Wanda denied snoring but you knew otherwise.

Brushing her hair behind her ear you admired the girl laying in your arms. It was so calm and you only wished it could be this way forever. You adored how close you could be with her, you had never got the chance to appreciate all the tiny details on her face.

Her freckles, her beautiful long eyelashes, and her resting face. She didn’t need the makeup she applied, she was just as beautiful without it and much more.

“Your thoughts are too loud detka…” Wanda mumbled, snuggling closer to your body.

Your face turned a bright crimson at the insinuation.

But that word, that five-lettered word. What did it mean?

Trying to distract your head from the fact the young witch had heard your previous thoughts, you gently wrapped your arms around her waist. Wanda hummed in delight, nuzzling herself into your neck. As if that helped control the still apparent blush quickly rising once again.

“I can feel you smirking…” You grunted in response “It’s not funny if that’s what you’re thinking.” You said, continuing to scratch the brunette's scalp. She adored head scratches, she melted as badly as butter.

“I have no idea what you mean moya lyubov.” Wanda sighed, melting further into your embrace.

As much as you tried to focus on the girl of your dreams. Those words she had spoken to you had a hold on you. Moya lyubov? Detka? She had called you those names daily but never given you an explanation.

It was clearly Sokovian for something you just didn’t know what.

———————————————————

You flipped the book pages in front of you skimming through each section. It had been hours and so far no luck in finding the words you were looking for. You had picked up a grand selection of Sokovian language books from the local library. The only thing left was reading them which by Odison was that easier said than done.

Out of all of the books placed in front of you, you were still on the first one. Not surprising considering it’s in a different language. The first choice was clear, use google but no. Sokovian was a written language not something plastered on the internet. So it wasn’t much help.

As you flipped to the next page a familiar pair of arms wrapped around your shoulders, interrupting your focus. Your shoulders tensed tightly under her touch, it was an effect the witch had on you.

The girl sighed placing her chin on your shoulder, nuzzling her cheek on your own. Her actions made it difficult to concentrate on your goal.

“What are you reading?” Wanda asked, her eyes skimming over the letters.

You quickly shoved the books aside, trying to play it off as cool as you could.

“Nothing…” You cleared your throat, ignoring the suspicious look Wanda gave you.

Although she knew it was nothing because as soon as she caught glimpse of the other book she knew. She let out a soft gasp it was a Sokovian dictionary.

“What is this? Sokovian? Why are you trying to learn Sokovian-”

“Because of you wands!” You shouted, startling the witch. Her gaze dropped to the book again, as she moved away from you. You regret shouting as it caused your crush to move away from you. You already missed her warmth. “Sorry…I didn’t mean to shout I’m just…” Your gaze dropped back to the piles of books in front of you “frustrated.”

She sat on the edge of your bed, fiddling with her sleeves “Learning a new language is difficult” Wanda chuckled, it was a sad one that had you confused, did your shouting really upset her that much?

“It’s not the language.” You swiveled your chair facing the witch whose eye immediately met yours.

Wanda leaned closer tilting her head “Then what is it?”

Either it was the way she questioned you or from the close proximity you shared but she had you nervous. Your eyes watched as Wanda’s gaze drifted lower, maybe you had seen wrong. Or maybe you didn’t, you hoped you hadn’t. It seemed like such an obscure possibility that maybe, yes indeed, Wanda liked you too.

“It’s the girl I’m learning it for.”

An intimate confession revealed from your lips. Wanda couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face along with the heat quickly rising inside her. Her heart warmed at your words. You didn’t have to say the girl's name in order for her to know.

Wanda smiled brightly at you, a smile you had never seen before. Something so personal hidden behind it, like that smile was just for you and you only. You couldn’t take the risk of her giving it to anyone else.

So with the last bits of remaining sanity in you, you gently grasped her hands.

“Maybe I’m reading this wrong, I’m not very good at reading…” You motioned your head to the endless piles of books on your desk, prompting Wanda to let out a laugh.

“But if I am…” You sighed building up the courage to say the words you’ve been wanting to say “would you want-”

“Yes.” Wanda interrupted

You huffed “I didn’t even get to finish…”

“I don’t care, my answer has always been yes detka.” The brunette hushed, pulling you closer.

Once again your focus drifted to that one word. That one word that had started this all. What does it mean?

Wanda smirked knowingly in front of you, loosely wrapping her arms over your shoulders, playing with the hairs behind your neck. She leaned in closer, lips centimeters apart from each other. One single motion would change it all.

“Don’t worry about it.” Wanda husked, closing the gap between you two.

And just like that, the word was quickly forgotten once again.

———————————————————

Bonus:

“It’s a term of endearment…”

Wanda snorted at your dumbfounded expression, watching as you dropped the book from your hands. Your girlfriend found it amusing, you did not.

“Yes, what did you think it was?” Wanda scrunched her nose, if you weren’t so annoyed you would’ve kissed it.

“All this time” you started “and it’s been a term of endearment.” You glared at the books.

“To be fair, I tried to warn you.” Wanda shrugged.

“I’m burning these books.”

“Detka- No.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x y/n

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valeskafics · 11 months

Text

"Beauty and the Beast", Chapter Three: Something There (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Series Masterlist HERE

Summary: Things change between you and Aemond after your attack.

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, fluff

Word Count: 1,586 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

You notice a change in Aemond in the days following his valiant defense of you. Rather than the brusque and honestly rude attitude the prince had toward you before, he’s almost acting like a gentleman. Dare you say it, the man is even being sweet to you.

The next morning, you’re surprised by a gentle knock at the door followed by a now all too familiar voice, “Lady Mallister? I wanted to ask if you’d like to break your fast with me,” there’s a pause before Aemond speaks again, “If you don’t wish to, that’s also fine. I just wanted to, erm, ask.”

You hold back a smile at his words before calling back, “I’ll join you in the dining hall, Your Grace. I’d enjoy breaking my fast with you.”

You end up giggling slightly at the sound of Daeron’s voice beyond the door, speaking to Aemond, “Oi, well done, big brother! See? Just listen to me and your life will be in a far better state than it’s currently in-”

“Shut up, Daeron!”

You get dressed and walk out to the dining hall. Helaena runs to embrace you when she sees you, while Daeron gives a charming smile and Aegon waves from his seat. Aemond, however, immediately stands and waits for you to be seated before sitting down himself. You’re surprised at this display of gentility, but you give him a polite smile and take the seat at his side that he’d clearly been saving for you.

And, much to your surprise, Aemond engages you in conversation, asking about your family, your life in Seagard, your hobbies. The two of you are still seated there long after his siblings have left the room to go about their own business.

“Well, I always wanted to travel,” you admit to him, smiling almost dreamily at the thought, “To see the world, learn of different cultures. To go to Winterfell, the Reach, Dorne, Essos, even YiTi,” you backtrack when you see the surprised expression on Aemond’s face, “It’s silly, I realize that, You Grace-”

“No,” he cuts you off, resting a hand on top of yours for a moment before quickly removing it, his cheeks flushing slightly, “I don’t think there’s anything silly about wanting to learn about new places or see new things. In fact, I think that’s quite an admirable interest,” Aemond gazes up at you, an awkward little grin playing at the corner of his lips, “You’re admirable.”

Aemond has duties as Prince Regent to attend to, of course, so all of his time cannot be spent with you. Before, you would’ve called it a welcome relief, not to have to spend time with the presumptuous, arrogant man who stole you away from your home. But sooner rather than later, you find that you long for his company. Helaena is, of course, a delight to speak to. And when Aegon isn’t too unwell and manages to leave his chambers, he makes you laugh to the point of your stomach aching. Daeron, though younger than you, is also an excellent conversationalist and you enjoy chatting with him, especially learning about his life back in Oldtown. He tells you that he was quite the hit with the ladies back there, a fact that his sister and brothers never cease to make fun of him about. He tells you that he has no less than five sweethearts back in Oldtown, praying for his safe return. However, Aemond very conspiratorially tells you that he’s quite sure that Daeron has no sweetheart waiting for him.

A few months into your stay in King’s Landing, Aemond decides to offer to take you on a dragon ride, promising that it will be far more pleasant than the last one he took you on. You reluctantly agree and, soon enough, he’s taking your hand and leading you to the Dragonpit, almost like an excited little boy. It’s such a change from the angry young man you’d come to see him as that the sight almost gives you whiplash. However, when you come face to face with Vhagar again, the ancient creature seems far more agreeable in temperament than the last time you saw her. You know that it is said that a dragon rider and their mount share a bond stronger than any other. You wonder if, since Aemond seems more amiable with you now, if that is rubbing off on the dragon. Aemond climbs up into the saddle extending a hand and helping you up, seating you in front of him.

And this time? You find the flight far more enjoyable than the last. Aemond’s hands are on your waist, ensuring that you know he’ll catch you if need be. And this time? He talks to you, telling you the story of how he claimed Vhagar, opening up to you in a way that you suspect he’s never opened up to anyone. He tells you how he grew up without a dragon, how he was mocked for it, and you slowly start to understand how his hostile nature came to be. But now, as you soar through the skies, his chest against your back, you think he isn’t quite so bad. There may be something in him that you were unable to see before.

For Aemond’s part?

He’s quite sure he’s absolutely in love with you. Though he knows there’s no chance of you feeling that way for him yet, he finds you to be different from anyone he’s ever met. He feels embarrassed of his previous actions, of how awful he was to you, and decides he’s going to spend the rest of the time he has with you making up for it. You’re intelligent and kind and so wonderful to talk to. You’re his first thought when he wakes and his last thought before he sleeps. And the most wonderful thing about you? When you were cleaning his wound, how you didn’t shrink away in fear or shudder at the sight of his scar or his sapphire.

Aemond knows he can be a lot to handle, but the way you’re looking at him right now, as the two of you walk through the gardens? He doesn’t think you’ve ever smiled at him the way you are right now, the slightest hint of affection in your eyes as you listen to him speak. As you pass by a rosebush, Aemond decides to pick one of the flowers and places it in your hair.

“What’s this for?” you ask him, smiling sweetly up at him in a way that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“It, erm,” Aemond stutters slightly before responding with a simple, “It suits you.”

You laugh softly, taking his arm again as you continue on your walk, “Thank you, my prince.”

“You’re very welcome, my lady,” Aemond says, his voice almost shy when he responds, refusing to look at you.

After you excuse yourself at dinner, curtsying before leaving for your room, Aemond turns to his brothers and sister, as well as Ser Criston who stands guard.

“I want to do something for her,” Aemond declares, “Something to show her how much I care about her. I don’t quite know what, though.”

“Well, there’s always the usual things that men do for their ladies,” Aegon drawls, “Flowers. Chocolates. Promises one doesn’t intend to keep.”

“Aegon,” Helaena scolds before turning to Aemond, “You should do something special for her. Something that speaks to her soul.”

Aemond thinks of your many conversations, his eye widening with delight as an idea strikes him, “I’ve got it!”

The next morning, you’re surprised when after breakfast, Aemond escorts you to some far flung corner of the castle, making you wonder just where in the seven hells he’s planning on taking you. You look at him curiously as the two of you stop in front of a door and one of his hands move to cover your eyes. Your breath catches in your throat at the feeling of his large calloused hands on you, but you let out a short laugh.

“Do you not trust me not to look?” you tease.

Aemond chuckles, “My lady, I simply don’t wish for the surprise to be ruined. Now watch your step. We’re going to walk three paces forward.”

You do as he says and Aemond can’t help but think how cute you look when you’re confused as you question, “Now can I open my eyes, my prince?”

“Just one moment,” Aemond throws open the curtains, smiling to himself as he does before turning back to face you, “Alright. Open your eyes, Lady Mallister.”

Your eyes open to the most incredible library you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You cover your mouth in surprise, letting out a delighted gasp as you look around. Your library back home in Seagard was impressive, but nothing quite like this.

“This is my private library,” Aemond says, “I’d like to share it with you. This is all yours, anytime you’d like, you can feel free to come here and read, to borrow any of my books. Consider them yours now.”

You surprise even yourself by flinging yourself into Aemond’s arms and embracing him tightly, laughing, “Thank you! Thank you so much. I’ve never had anyone really care about the fact that I enjoy reading, so this truly means the world to me, my prince.”

Aemond tentatively embraces you back before holding you tightly and murmuring, “My lady, I insist you call me Aemond. Just Aemond.”

Your Aemond, he thinks.

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aziraphales-library · 5 months

Note

Hello!! I was just wondering if you knew of any fics similar to In Love We Rise by AJ_Constantine, like in the sense that they're slowly exploring and figuring each other out, like eventually progressing up to kissing and then, y'know, but in a fluffy kind of way? Im not sure if that makes any sense tho but thank you anyway! (P.s. i love this blog so much, you people are actually amazing at this! I hope you all have a lovely day/night :])

Hi! You might be interested in our #developing relationship tag for fics along these lines. Here are some more for you...

Love and Lust in Mesopotamia by The_Bentley (E)

Living among humans means sampling their activities, including the sexual ones. There's only one problem. Crawly isn't interested in women, but he is in Aziraphale, who is attracted to him in return. If Crawly agrees, Aziraphale would like to show him that physical affection can exist between two beings who are presenting as the same gender.

It's Getting Hard, This Holding Back by ZehWulf (T)

6,000-odd years is a long time to evolve a romantic relationship, but as a near-immortal being, Crowley had patience. True, they had lost momentum right around reaching the Speaking Looks and Meaningful Gestures stage, but at the time Crowley had been more or less content to let things idle. Now, he was determined to shift things back into gear, and that gear was Explicitly Romantic Physical Expressions of Affection.

Resonance by Macx (T)

They had been friends for six millennia. They had been on their side. There had only been their side. Of course, they had never known it until it was all supposed to end. They had stood against their respective sides, had been hurt, had suffered, had felt desperation, fear and terror. Now it was suddenly over and both Crowley and Aziraphale have to deal with the consequences. Not just those of Up Yours and Down There. They have come a long way at a very slow pace. They have come so much further in just within day. And they were still going incredibly fast, changing, evolving, becoming something that might be part of the Ineffable Plan...

The professor, the old crush, the new love by AccroV (E)

Aziraphale Fell is an english literature professor who freaks out when he discovers that his new colleague is his ex best-friend and crush from high school : the one and only Anthony Crowley. They didn't talk for years after one night in high school. What can happen now ? An AU with : high school memories, awkward flirting and lot of good feelings

Chemistry by Twilightcitysky (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley have been living among humans for 6000 years, but there have always been parts of the human experience they've chosen to avoid (like allergies, head colds, and having to use the loo). They've also never let hormones get in the way of making rational decisions, because they didn't have any hormones to speak of. That's all about to change.

Introduction to Touch by sheendav (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley survive the Not-Pocalypse and profess their love for one another, but Aziraphale has tremendous anxiety about pursuing a physical relationship with Crowley. He genuinely wishes to move forward, but past fears surrounding touch, intimacy and body image are prohibiting him from acting on what his heart (and corporation) really want. Crowley is ready to go as slowly and carefully as needed to be there for his Angel as they pursue their new "Arrangement" step by careful, sweet step.

And the one you mentioned...

In Love We Rise by AJ_Constantine (E)

Ever since the thwarted apocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley have gradually expanded the boundaries of their relationship. Aziraphale has delighted in slow progression of lingering touches, tender embraces and chaste kisses. He enjoys the demon's company more than ever, but one evening he finds himself in an odd sort of mood, nettlesome and heartsore, and declines Crowley's offer to take him out to dinner. He figures that once he has a good sulk in the privacy of his bookshop, he'll get over it. Crowley decides that won't do, and drags the recalcitrant angel out on a mysterious mission, which ends up taking them on a path that neither of them expects it to.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #adult omens #developing relationship #fluff #mod d

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zorosdimples · 6 months

Text

pairing ⛧ creepy medical student! law x gn! reader

warnings ⛧ minors: please do not interact! i will block you. while there’s no smut, this is suggestive, and everything that happens is nonconsensual (law is gross). mentions of masturbation, fucking inanimate objects, bruises, and death. additionally: cum sighting, cursing, knife play, a little blood, some spit, manhandling, and general grimetown weirdness.

word count ⛧ 1132

notes ⛧ this is another installment of the garden of earthly delights series, as well as a contribution to @bastardblvd’s house of slimy horrors collab—my prompt was “pumpkin patch”! the plot is nonexistent… just go with it <3

something isn’t right.

the early evening sky is hazy, the sun obscured by a leaden film that shrouds grimetown’s pumpkin patch in a deathly hue. the barren field before you is more of a squash graveyard than anything else—the vast expanse of dirt is littered with a few dozen orange carcasses.

this is certainly not what you were expecting when your date suggested a fun autumnal outing.

“this has to be the world’s most depressing pumpkin patch,” you grouse, craning your neck to look up at law’s stony expression; as usual, his face doesn’t betray his thoughts. you can never get a good read on him. you don’t know him well enough to tell if he’s simply awkward or if he genuinely doesn’t emote. “we should go somewhere else.”

the jet-haired man places a firm palm on the small of your back, urging you forward. “c’mon, we’re already here. we can’t make jack-o-lanterns without pumpkins. toji joe’s is out of ‘em.”

there’s a peculiar lilt to his words—a faux positivity that makes you hesitate for a split second. but you move forward anyway.

the blustery air ruffles your clothes as you drift across the dark earth with law, searching for a pumpkin that isn’t in some state of decomposition. this is exactly the sort of scenario you hear about on your favorite podcasts and documentaries: a careless person accompanied by a man they barely know in a remote area, not so much as a whisper of nearby life on the wind.

all you really know about law is that he’s a handsome medical student who shares similar interests, namely in true crime and literature. that, and he had been unusually pushy about this outing.

“hey, that looks like a good one.” law points to a suitable carving prospect. crouching down to get a closer look, a gasp leaves your lips when you find a hole a few inches in diameter bored into the side of the pumpkin. what appears to have once been a pale cream fluid is now a flaky crust, caking the opening. “is that—”

“probably,” law cuts in, resting a cold, tattooed hand on your shoulder. startled, you nearly topple over, but his strong arms catch you and pull you to his chest. now standing, you jerk in his embrace; he releases his hold and you take a few steps back. “it’s one of kappa upsilon mu’s fall festival activities.”

it’s impossible to hide the disgust that furrows your brow and creeps into your voice. “they mutilate pumpkins and fuck them like fleshlights as a frat tradition?”

law shrugs. you swear you see a glimmer of humor flit through his amber irises. “it’s not even close to the weirdest thing they do. ever heard of a ‘cum fountain’?”

you hold up a hand to stop him. “i don’t even wanna know.”

but something isn’t adding up you think with a frown. “if you knew all the pumpkins were going to be cut up and…violated, why did you bring me here, law?” you tried to measure your words carefully, but now that they hang in the open, your accusation is evident.

your date’s lips curl into an ominous smirk. the familiar chill of dread nips at your heels and paws at your chest. “well,” law starts, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a switchblade. your eyes rivet on the tool—the weapon—as he fiddles with it, nimble fingers gliding along the handle before flicking it open with ease. his bored, yellow gaze unnerves you; his words ooze calculated confidence. “i’m gonna practice my carving skills with you.”

his statement rips the breath from your lungs. unsure of what to do, you chuckle uncomfortably, praying that he’s still talking about the goddamn pumpkins.

law edges closer to you, a hunter testing his prey. you don’t move—you don’t think you could if you tried. your mind is racing in countless directions, but you can’t settle on an action, a plan. and this freak—your date—is one small thrust of the blade from you, crowding your space. so you stare down the predator’s maw.

“you’re beautiful,” law states, though it doesn’t sound complimentary; it’s an observation. there’s a clinical coldness to his words that makes you feel like you’re trapped in a microscope slide. he gestures to you with the knife, the unspoken threat palpable.

“oh. um, th-thank you,” you stammer, eyes darting wildly, cornered prey.

you force yourself to think: how do you escape this fucker? you had to take a shitty taxi to get to the pumpkin patch, but the driver could barely keep the car in its lane and tried to proposition you for sex. is everyone in grimetown a slimeball? you don’t realize your nails are biting so deeply into the skin of your palms that blood is dripping onto the dirt.

as though he can read your thoughts, law says coolly, “i wouldn’t run if i were you.”

options dwindling, you remember your lifeline. slowly, you inch a hand toward your back pocket where your phone sits. but your opponent is perceptive; law cracks a wide smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, running his tongue across his sharp teeth. he raises the knife and presses the flat side of the blade against your neck.

it’s an effective warning.

“there’s no signal out here—the only cell provider that services grimetown is slime mobile. you can check, though, if it makes you feel better,” law taunts.

to your horror, your phone reads “no service” at the top of the screen. your skin itches, nerves buzzing with adrenaline. your hands shake, fear and rage coalescing into an unshakeable tremor that has sweat beading at your temples. hot tears of frustration singe your cheeks. but the cold steel of the blade against your throat saps the fight from your body.

your final resort?

“fuck you,” you hiss with all the venom you can muster. and, before you can stop yourself: ptui. you launch a glob of spit that lands squarely on law’s cheek, punctuating your insult.

law doesn’t flinch. rather, he swipes two calloused fingertips through your precious gift. he holds his wet digits up, admiring the glistening pads of his fingers, then pops them into his mouth. the groan he emits while enjoying your taste makes you lightheaded. he pivots his blade so that the honed tip scrapes an angry line up the column of your throat. the pressure isn’t enough to slice your flesh—yet.

you shriek when law forcefully grabs your jaw and pulls you to him. bruises in the shape of his fingers will bloom on your face tomorrow—if you live that long, anyway. for the first time, his wide grin crinkles his hawkish eyes.

his voice is thick with desire as he murmurs, “i’d like to fuck you first.”

#house of slimy horrors collab #the garden of earthly delights #kinktober 2023 #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #༄ kae writes #law <3 #grimetown #tw knifeplay #tw knife play #cw knifeplay #cw knife play

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anantaru · 9 months

Text

MAYBE I SHOULD OR MAYBE I SHOULDN'T

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — after your first date with kaveh, there was something particular yet scary that the both of you simply couldn't ignore.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 800ish words

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — fluff, very sweet, kissing, early relationship (first date), a lil awkward but he's got the spirit, gn! reader

there was a lump in kaveh's strained throat, of the size of a cherry pit and he hasn't been able to get rid of it all passing day— you cannot discern it on your own and he hoped that you wouldn't notice that he had been nervous this entire time.

at the end of the day, it was your first date together and the blonde had tried his ultimate hardest to show off all his exciting and confident traits.

nobody could save him from the established chain reactions moving inwardly, set in stone in his colorful mind. kaveh was a creative individual and he had a way with words, he bleeds on paper when he draws, pouring his soul onto the a blank canvas until it turns alive, he shows his feelings but can get desperately tongue tied when in front of someone he desired to impress.

agitated receptions where the fundamental causes he had suffered from, from nothing more than having you close beside him.

a date, again, what had seemed so pure and virtuous, was slowly shining to its very ends with the night emerging, the occasional barking of faraway dogs around sumeru city breaking the silence which was savaging the air between.

and even after he had decided to walk you home, you stay still in front of your door, as if, something essential was missing, more and more.

"there we are." the man truly was patient, and scared.

yet how was he so quiet about it? for the desire to kiss your lips.

how could he, keep his heart closed off in his chest? when all it wanted was to flee.

or his eyes, those scarlet eyes, surely kaveh wouldn't say it out loud, but his expression was telling. horrible discreet, that's a sufficient way of calling it.

but it's persistent in its silence, and kaveh didn't see that you had ached for the same, he thought about it but wouldn't want to cross any boundaries with you.

and then, under the boundless, glowing stars stretched in infinity, he sees you and imagines to have you embraced in his arms, a pure fantasy as such was like he held all the celestial bodies close to his heart.

you, on the other hand, have decided now, to maybe, not go in for that kiss you sought after, rather go inside and call it a night. but as you turn around to open the door, kaveh gently, yet swift, grabs your wrist into his palm, stalling your way home.

"wait." he gulps, knowing he had just witnessed his body move on its own, "wait." kaveh says it again, this time slower, more controlled and he holds your wrist and pulls you towards him.

like it was nothing, like it has to be that way, he did it as easily as holding down a butterfly.

you find comfort in his subtle trace and step forward, watching how his deep red eyes now held a perception of delight, "yes?"

some days, you felt everything at once while others, you feel nothing at all, but right this second, you catch yourself becoming addicted to the man who had made up his mind.

he coughs, "do you think—" maybe he has misjudged the situation, perhaps he can still walk away but how accomplish that without making an utter fool of himself.

"yes."

fighting for another mouthful of air, you repeat yourself, "yes." feeling almost lightheaded as the hand around your wrist loosened to slide and cup your warm cheek.

the dream flickered, becoming reality when kaveh moves closer to slowly place his lips on top of your own yet not before making sure of it again, remained eye contact and a subtle nod giving him permission to proceed; shivering, increased with a rapid heart rate but you take the chance to draw him near as well, trembling hands weaving into his soft hair.

his tongue clumsily pokes at your bottom lip before you part your mouth, feeling how he's readjusting his posture, just right so he could welcome you in his arms.

kaveh's face was burning at the thought of what was happening right now and the way you'd skillfully circle your tongue over his own while whining silently into a breathless moan.

was he insane? no, this is insane.

he should be figuring out on what to say next, when will the kiss end and how will he survive the somewhat plausible possibility of things becoming awkward right afterwards? right after you pull away.

still, despite the chaos in his mind, he accepts and tries to remember this for his entire life. you're pressed up against a muscular body that only got warmer as time passed by— while you, well, you never wanted it to end, and it's making your knees weak as your ears detect a slight pitch of a whine slither right past them ..

.. finding it hard to stay restraint, when this situation was exactly how it's meant to be.

#kaveh x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaveh x you #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x you #kaveh fluff #genshin fanfiction #genshin impact kaveh x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact kaveh

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